


Promises to Keep

by bracus09



Category: SEAL Team (TV)
Genre: Camping, Clay Spenser Whump, Gen, Hostage Situations, Kidnapping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-03
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:55:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 31,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22998034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bracus09/pseuds/bracus09
Summary: When a fun time camping spells danger for one of Bravo.
Relationships: Naima Perry/Ray Perry
Comments: 111
Kudos: 326





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This has been bouncing around in my head for a couple of weeks, but I've been working on the ABC SEAL Team Whump series. So, I'm taking a little break to get this out to you guys and then I will be back with "D".

Jameelah screamed, “Uncle Clay is here!” and with an enthusiastic bound, she was out of the modest suburban VA home and running to greet a forest green Nova with silver flames.

Ray Perry stood at the front door of his home and, with a grin on his face, watched his young daughter leap into the arms of his blond, curly headed youngest team member exiting the vehicle. He waved at Clay Spenser, brother for the past three years, and opened the front screen door to let the younger man and his little girl through.

“Hey, Clay, right on time.” Ray shook his head and watched as Clay smirked at him before going on. “Mikey is just finishing up with the packing. He’s in the living room.”

Ray led his teammate into the kitchen where Naima was putting the finishing touches on a pan of cooled chocolate brownies, and Jason was busy drinking a beer. Naima stopped long enough to give Clay a quick hug before turning back to her task.

“I’ve just got to cut these and they’ll be ready to go into a container for you to take along. Are you really sure you want to do this?” Naima asked, not looking back from her task.

Clay smirked again, “Of course I’m sure! How often do we get four days off during the summer? Besides, you and Ray get to have some time with just RJ and I’m sure Mikey would like to get out of Jason’s shabby apartment for at least a little bit, so this is perfect! The kids are going to enjoy camping.”

“My apartment is not shabby.” Jason said, scowling at Clay.

“Getting a bedframe to get your bed off the floor doesn’t count.” Clay retorted back.

Naima interjected before any bickering could start. “Yes, well, I’m not sure you realize what you’re getting yourself into camping with a teenager and a nine-year-old.” She smirked at Clay’s face. “You have everyone’s phone numbers?” Clay nodded. “And you will stay in the more populated areas of the campground, too?”

Clay put his arms around Ray’s wife and reassured her. “Naima, relax. We’ll be staying near the playgrounds and easier hiking trails. I promise, they’ll be safe with me. I won’t take them into the wilder areas. You guys just relax and enjoy your time at home with just RJ.”

Naima and Ray smiled at each other, and Ray gave his wife a wink. “I think we can manage that.”

***

The campsite Clay had chosen was secluded enough to give him the feeling of being away from everyone but close enough to the bathrooms, playground and hiking trails to make it easy for the kids to enjoy themselves. He watched fondly as nine-year-old Jameelah and fourteen-year-old Mikey tried to puzzle out the workings of a four-man tent. They had insisted on putting the campsite up by themselves with only verbal instructions from Clay.

Clay marveled at how fast the two were growing. It only seemed like yesterday that he had first been drafted to Bravo. Jameelah had only entered kindergarten and Mikey was in elementary school. Now Mikey was going into high school next year, and Jameelah was turning into a beautiful pre-teen. His brothers’ kids were as dear to him as if they were his own, and he noticed how much they were starting to resemble their parents.

Mikey was turning into a mini-Jason, with a few of Alana’s features showing through. Jameelah has started to show her mother’s beauty. Currently, Jameelah’s hair was trying to escape from a long braid down her back with her face flushed with exertion. Clay was suddenly struck with a vision of the kind of woman she would grow to be. A smile curled his lips with wicked glee.

‘Oh, Ray Perry. You’d better get a new shovel for Full Metal ‘cuz you’re going to have a real stunner on your hands.’

***

The campfire cast a mellow glow over the occupants of the campsite. Jameelah was trying hard to be a big girl and stay awake, but the combination of activity, fresh air, a good supper and warm firelight was proving too difficult a combination to resist. Her eyes were determined to droop shut.

Mikey was feeling a little sleepy, too, but enjoyed the feeling of ‘the guys sittin’ around shootin’ the shit’, as his dad would say. Uncle Clay always treated him as an equal and that made Mikey proud.

The fire popped softly, and an ember sparkled in the hot updraft. The conversation was meandering about the topic of the next day’s activities when Clay’s ears caught a loud rustling in the nearby bushes. He wasn’t unduly alarmed. Raccoons were notoriously bold around tourists here and made no bones about making their way into camp and sauntering off with anything edible. On the other hand, coyotes had been making themselves at home of late, too, and they were more worrisome.

Clay had just decided to find himself a handy stone to toss at the intruder when the foliage nearest him burst apart with enough force to startle all three occupants to their feet. An ugly giant of a man crashed into the clearing followed closely by his small, balding companion. It was immediately apparent that the two dirty, ragged men were wearing penal uniforms with numbers clearly stamped across the front pocket of each shirt. There was fear in their eyes. Fear and desperation. Not a good combination.

All this and more registered in Clay’s consciousness between one adrenaline pumping heartbeat and the next, and he was turning toward the kids before he even realized it. “RUN!!! RUN, NOW!”

The words had barely left Clay’s mouth when he caught sight of the larger of the two convicts out of the corner of his eye. With surprising speed, one large, beefy fist hit him brutally across the face. Clay found himself spinning and crashing to the hard-packed earth. He was up again in a split second, ready to tackle the monster and buy the kids time to run. Pulling up short, Clay realized he was too late. The smaller man stood poised behind the frightened kids; gun pointed menacingly at the back of Mikey’s head. A government issue gun. Probably taken off a prison guard. A guard who was most likely dead at the time, Clay guessed.

“Alright, mister, you just calm yourself and these two young ones of yours will be just fine.” The balding little man hissed. He seemed to have a sharp cunning and stared at Clay with a challenging gaze.

Clay paused uncertainly. He took a moment to spit blood from his split lips, the coppery taste strong in his mouth, and used the seconds to gather his wits. He knew he was in a highly dangerous situation. If he and his brothers’ kids were going to get out of this alive, he would have to use all his imagination and resources. Right now, he tried to dredge up the calmest and collected tone he could. If he was by himself, this would be a completely different situation. But he had the kids to worry about.

“Okay, Okay. I’m sorry. I got a bit carried away there. We’ll just settle this nice and peaceful and you can be on your way. If it’s my car you want, I’ve got the keys right here. I’ll toss them over to you. You can take any equipment or money that we’ve got. I just want the kids to be safe, okay? Can you let them come over to me? You wouldn’t want them crying out or anything, right?” Clay spoke soothingly and made little ‘come here’ motions with his hands.

The large convict took a step toward Clay and raised his hand again, but the little man stopped him with a gesture. “No, Lou, it’s alright. The kids can go to him. We’re all going to sit down now and have a nice, little chat. Isn’t that right, mister…?”

“Spenser.” Clay reluctantly decided to play along for the time being. He couldn’t afford to risk the kids in a foolish show of arrogance. He gestured again and sighed with relief when Mikey and Jameelah scuttled fearfully to his side. Jameelah immediately wrapped her arms around Clay’s legs and hid her tearstained face against him. Clay patted her gently on the head. Mikey tried to look brave but found Clay’s other hand on his shoulder an immense comfort. All three lowered themselves cautiously to the ground.

Silence reigned for a few moments. Lou’s small companion visually searched the campsite thoughtfully while the hulking Lou hovered menacingly over Clay and his charges. Mikey nervously divided his attention between watching the little convict’s crafty eyes and his Uncle Clay’s, which burned with a cold fire. He had never seen his father’s teammate like this, and it was both thrilling and frightening. He was getting a glimpse of what his dad looked like when he left on a spin-up. Jameelah, settled protectively in Clay’s lap, was attempting to dab solicitously at the blood on her Uncle’s face with the sleeve of her sweatshirt. 

In addition to the painfully smashed and bloody lips, she noticed the bruise spreading across the lower right half of his jaw. This violation on one of her beloved Uncle infuriated her. With fire in her eyes, she looked up into the ugly face of the man standing above them. “You hurt my Uncle Clay! I hate you!”

Clay made shushing noises and patted Jameelah on the back while a slow smile spread across Lou’s face.

“Awww, Davie. She’s a purdy liddle one, ain’t she.”

Clay’s head whipped around to glare menacingly at the huge man and froze at what he saw there. Before he could form his next thought, the little convict, Davie, stepped smoothly into the situation.

“Yes, Lou, very nice. Now leave them be until I tell you different, alright? It appears that Mr. Spenser, here, has quite an impressive array of camping equipment. I would venture to guess that you are somewhat skilled at the practice of outdoor living, Mr. Spenser?

Clay tore his eyes away from Lou’s face to look into the speculative eyes of Davie. “Yes, I suppose so. Why? I’ve told you, you can have the equipment, my car, my money…”

“Ah, but those things are easily come by if we so desired it. What we need is someone who can guide us through this vast national park, my friend. As I’m sure you have deduced by now, we are wanted men and even now I’m sure there are roadblocks up all over the surrounding area. So, you see, driving out would be quite stupid, wouldn’t it? No, I think it would be so much wiser if we did what the authorities wouldn’t expect and end up 50 miles or so from where they will be looking. I have a feeling you are just the man to help us out. Am I right… GI Joe?” Davie gave a ferocious grin and cackled a bit at his own joke. Clay remained silent as his thoughts spun wildly through all his options. Lou tore his lustful gaze from the little girl and swung it to Clay.

“He a soldier, Davie? Cool. He should get us through real good, then, right? You was right, Davie. You said you’d find us a way. You’re always right, Davie.” Lou’s eyes were full of hero worship for the little man. Clay simply ignored him. He had so much more at stake… he had the lives of his brothers’ children at stake.

“Okay. Okay. I’ll guide you anywhere you want but only if you let the children go.” Clay knew it was a long shot, but he had few options to deal with.

“Do I look stupid to you, Mr. Spenser? You know as well as I that these two have heard our plans and will tell the first police officer they find. No, I don’t think so, soldier boy, but good try. They both go with us, and if you don’t guide us, I’ll simply shoot the boy and give the girl to Lou, here.” At that Lou’s eyes lit up with anticipation. 

Clay’s eyes narrowed. He glared at Davie, gritting his teeth. “I’ll guide you, you son-of-a-bitch, but if you let your trained ape over there lay one finger on Jameelah or hurt these kids in any way, I’ll lead you around in circles till you starve to death. Is that clear?” Clay had the small satisfaction of hearing a growl rise from Lou’s throat as he stared into Davie’s thoughtful eyes. 

Davie took in the fierce, determined set of Clay’s face, and made careful note of the black hatred that emanated from the man’s eyes. He was facing a trained soldier that has seen combat, he would have to be careful. “Very clear, Mr. Spenser. I’ll do my best to curb Lou’s more… unnatural proclivities. But should you play us false, the boy will die and all bets are of concerning the young lady’s future. I believe we have a deal, then. Now, I want your phones and the keys to the car.”

Clay reluctantly pulled his phone out from his pants pockets and Mikey looked hesitant to give Davie his phone. Clay slapped the phone into Davie’s hand and nodded his head to Mikey to hand his over too.

Upon receiving the phone, Davie promptly turned both phones off, walked over to the car, opened the door and tossed them on the front seat. He then locked the door and handed Clay back his keys.

“And now I think you should take the children and retire to your tent for the remainder of the night. Lou will keep watch and we will set off before first light in the morning. Good night, Mr. Spenser.” Davie instructed with a smirk on his face.

Clay nodded and, rising quickly, shepherded Jameelah and Mikey before him to the tent and zipped it shut behind him. Lou’s fire lit silhouette splashed across the material of their shelter like an ominous stain. He settled the kids as best he could and reassured them he would watch over them. Settling cross-legged at the front, cursing and praising the tent for only having one entrance/exit, Clay rubbed his sore jaw and prepared for a sleepless night.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where did they go?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is Chapter 2... Hope last chapter wasn't too intense. :)

Ray Perry sighed contentedly. He was stretched out on the couch watching his wife in the kitchen and RJ sitting in his chair eating lunch. After putting RJ down last night, they watched a movie and ate popcorn, and what followed that movie made Ray’s lips curl into an even wider, and very satisfied, grin. This morning, after sleeping in as much as a three-year-old allows their parents, and a home-cooked breakfast, they strolled to the park were RJ enjoyed playing on the equipment and after lunch and RJ’s nap, they were planning on enjoying some window shopping at a new shopping complex that popped up.

“Ray, can you flip on the TV and see if the news is showing the weather? I want to know if it’s going to rain to see which jacket to wrestle RJ into.” Naima asked.

Ray reached and snagged the remote, flipping on the TV and going to the news. He watched as the local anchorwoman finished up a report on the current rush hour snarls and then she plastered a synthetically fake smile on her face and perkily went on to the next news item.

“Federal, state and local authorities continue the manhunt today for two escaped convicts last seen yesterday running on foot from an abandoned car on the off ramp of Interstate 81 and Highway 64. It is believed that Davie Evans and Lou Cook are attempting to elude followers by staying on the fringes of George Washington and Jefferson National Forest. All roads leading into and out of the national forest are roadblocked and all campers are being warned. Evans, convicted five times of Grand Theft and Second-Degree Murder, and Cook, convicted three times of Child Molestation and First-Degree Murder, killed two guards in their escape from a prisoner transport bus and are armed and considered very dangerous. Citizens in the counties of Nelson, Buckingham, Amherst, Appomattox and Lynchberg are advised to take extra precautions. In other news…”

Ray didn’t notice when Naima stopped working in the kitchen and came to stand next to him at the couch, one of her hands on his shoulder. Clay and the kids were in the North Creek Campsite, just a few miles down from the I-81 and I-64 interchange area where the convicts had last been seen. He knew that he was probably overreacting, but he doubted Clay was looking at the news this morning. He turned to look at Naima. 

She was staring at him, white-faced. “I know. They’re probably safe, Ray. But can you call them to make sure.”

Ray reached for his phone and hit Spenser’s contact. It rang once and went to voicemail. He hung up and tried again. It again went straight to voicemail. He next tried Mikey’s cell phone. He hit call and Mikey’s cell phone rang once and went to voicemail. This was starting to concern Ray and Naima was starting to get scared. “Maybe they are on a trail and can’t get reception.”

“Does Jason know?” Naima replied, not liking her husband’s reasoning.

Ray looked back down on his phone, hit Jason’s contact and listened to the rings. 

Jason picked up after five rings. “It’s our day off without kids. Why are you calling me?”

“I’m guessing you haven’t seen the news.” Ray responded calmly.

“What news?” Jason replied and Ray could hear him shuffling around.

“Two convicts escaped from a prison transport not too far from the campsite Clay and the kids are at.” Ray told Jason, trying not to let his panic show through.

“Have you got a hold of Clay?” Jason asked, starting to switch into mission mode.

“Tried his phone multiple times, all went straight to voicemail. Same with Mikey.” Ray calmly told him.

“Do you want me to pick you both up? Or meet me there?” Jason wanted to know. He didn’t want to take any chances with the kids. He trusted Spenser with his life, but this is his kid.

“Pick us up and I’ll start letting the guys know what’s going on. Hopefully we are just being cautious, but this is Clay Spenser. He’s a trouble magnet.” Ray responded.

“I’ll be there in 15.” Jason promptly hung up and started getting ready.

Ray stared at his phone for a few minutes before he started calling the rest of the guys. 

***

Clay trudged wearily along the hiking trail. It had been a long day, starting just as the first rays of the sun pinked the eastern sky. Lou had come to rouse them and was surprised to find Clay still awake and wary. They had quickly been ordered to pack what was only necessary and easy to carry. Davie didn’t want the campsite to look any more abandoned than it had to. The older convict’s keen mind frustrated and, he hated to admit it, scared Clay. Davie was a survivor and that made him very dangerous. Lou was a man run by impulse and need. That made him even more dangerous.

Clay had set a steady pace that was easy enough for the kids to keep up with. A few rest periods and a break for a noon meal of trail mix and bananas were all that Davie would allow. The only near crisis had been when poor Jameelah had voiced a need to relieve herself. Clay had gone cold when Lou began to follow the little girl into the nearby bushed. He had sharply ordered Mikey to go watch over the younger girl and was surprised when Mikey complied without complaint. He had the feeling that Mikey was becoming aware that Lou posed a danger to Jameelah. Clay felt a sadness at the thought that his 14-year-old team leader’s son had to face such ugliness. It had worked, though. Lou had altered direction and come to stand, glaring, at Clay instead. Clay glared right back and then turned the glare on Davie, who simply shrugged.

Now the woods were beginning to take on the strange, surreal light of evening. The last few minutes of muted daylight just after the sun had plunged below the horizon. Clay usually loved this time of day when he’s sitting on the beach, but he found no enjoyment this time. Darkness was his enemy, now. Too many possibilities, too little help or hope in the dark. What he would give to have his NODs and his service weapon.

The sun slipped away, and the forest became increasingly murky. When Davie tripped and crashed to his knees, he called a halt. Mikey and Jameelah, reluctantly made to walk with the convict to prevent all three hostages from bolting, sank wearily to the ground and shucked their backpacks. 

Davie rubbed his knee. “I believe we’ve come as far as we’re going to today, Mr. Spenser. How far would you say we’ve traveled?”

Clay cast back into memory and mentally tallied the landmarks he had seen that day and compared them to the ones on the map he studied before picking this campground to bring the kids to, and quickly did some calculation in his head.

“Well, I think we’ve come about 15 miles.” He watched Davie’s eyebrows shoot up with disbelief. “I know that doesn’t sound like much but considering the terrain were hiking in that’s pretty good. From where we started at North Creek Camp to I-81, where I’m assuming, you’d like to… hitch a ride, it’s straight north about 50 miles as the crow flies. But we aren’t crows. We’ve had to detour around outcroppings and the deeper parts of Whitetail Creek. Tomorrow we will make our way down the south side of Devil’s Canyon and then turn east for a while until we can come up again because there isn’t any way up the north side otherwise. We’re smack in the middle of the Appalachian Wilderness, which is in the middle of the Appalachian Mountain Range. This isn’t going to be a day trip, dumbass, so get used to it.”

Clay’s face had taken on a stone-faced look. He knew they were deep into the wilds now, and his expertise as a Tier One Operator, even if the convict didn’t know that particular piece of information, was their one and only bargaining chip. He was going to use it. Davie studied him in silence for a moment before turning away. 

Lou, standing behind Clay, grumbled incoherently beneath his breath. He didn’t like the way their hostage spoke to Davie. Davie deserved respect.

“Davie, what you want to do fer dinner? I’m awful hungry, Davie. Should I have GI Joe fix us something. Maybe liddle Jameelah and me can go get some wood for a fire?” Lou leered at Jameelah hopefully. Clay put out a hand and drew the little girl to him as Davie quickly intervened.

“Ah, Lou. As much as I would like to have a nice, warm, toasty fire for us and a hot meal, I’m afraid that it would bring unwated attention. No, my friend, I think we’ll have to eat cold meals for a while yet. We’ll make do with the packaged foods and fruit we’ve packed along. Isn’t it fortunate that Mr. Spenser brought such suitable foods with him? And I must compliment whoever baked the brownies. They are the best thing I’ve eaten since I went into prison.”

Supper that night was eaten in weary silence. Clay knew he didn’t have the stamina to spend another vigilant night awake and with no tent as even superficial protection he worried that the huge monster, Lou, would make his move on Jameelah under the cover of darkness and fatigue. Davie’s assurances that he would, or could, control Lou were flimsy at best. Clay knew it was only a matter of time. Even if they should come all the way through to the highway unscathed, Clay had no illusions as to their fate once Davie and Lou had no more need for them. He and Mikey would die quickly. Jameelah would not be so fortunate, although she would die in the end. Clay had one shot. He knew what it was and he knew what it would cost. He was willing to pay the price.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The discovery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the cliff hangar last time!

The sun was just kissing the horizon when Jason pulled his truck up to the roadblock leading into the park, and he gestured to the State Trooper standing guard. Sonny was on his way with Trent and Brock, who was bringing Cerberus with them.

“Sir, we have to find someone in the campsite. My teammate and our children are camping here. They aren’t answering their phones, so we want to see if they are safe.” Jason peered anxiously in the fading light toward the park ranger station. The Trooper glanced in and saw another man and a tense looking woman scanning the road ahead. He looked over his shoulder and gestured to a Ranger standing next to the small entrance station.

“Bill, you have the campsite assignment, right?”

The Ranger gave an affirmative nod and stepped inside to retrieve the logbook. Jogging back over to the Trooper’s side, he flipped it open to the most recent entries.

“Who’s the campsite registered to, sir?”

“Clay Spenser. He’s got two kids with him. Michael Hayes is my son and Jameelah Perry is their daughter, although I doubt, they’ll be on the log. They checked in yesterday afternoon. We just heard about the escaped convicts on the news and they aren’t answering their phones…” Jason realized he was trying to explain the situation, but he really wanted to get to his kids. Ranger Billy was scanning the campsite entries and when his finger stopped so did Jason. The Ranger was nodding.

“Yep. Right here. He has a site reserved for four days. Site number 13.” He turned to look at the Trooper who was scratching his head.

“I can’t leave my post and I don’t want you folks to drive up there alone, so if you can wait for five minutes, I’ll have another unit come up and escort you in. Mind you, I don’t think you have anything to be concerned about. We’ve got patrols all over the campsites for the safety of the campers who refused to leave or were unavailable when we notified them about the escape. We’re more concerned with the stretch of road between here and the campsites. We think the fugitives will stick to the outskirts of the forest. The warden at the prison they were transferring from doesn’t seem to think they are the woodsy type, ya know?” He grinned and turned to his patrol car. Jason and Ray could hear him speaking over the radio with his dispatcher and waited impatiently for their escort to arrive. 

Ray looked at Naima. “He’s right, you know. I’m sure everything is fine. We’ll get there and the kids will be embarrassed that we came to look for them and Clay will think we are checking up on him…” He trailed off at the resolute look on his wife’s face.

“I don’t care how embarrassed the kids are or what Clay thinks. I’m not leaving my child anywhere near the vicinity of a homicidal child-molester.” Naima looked right back into Ray’s eyes and saw that she really didn’t have an argument on her hands. Ray was talking as much for his benefit as hers and Jason’s.

A State cruiser pulled up next to them. The pair of State Troopers inside conferred momentarily with the original Trooper and the roadblock was moved aside. With a tip of the driver’s hat and a smile, they motioned Jason’s truck to follow them, proceeding around the barricade.

Fifteen minutes later, they were pulling up to Campsite 13. Naima had originally heaved a sigh of relief at the sight of Clay’s Nova and the tent. Now, however, she felt a sense of unease growing in her chest because neither Jason nor Ray had relaxed one bit. The sun had dipped below the horizon and, although there were a few vestiges of light in the sky, it was swiftly approaching the point where it was too dark to still be out hiking. Yet, here they were at Clay’s campsite with no Clay, no kids, no campfire or dinner smells. This was not the plan Clay had told them about.

Naima began calling the names of the kids. Jason, Ray and the older of the two Troopers, Jake, walked toward the dead campfire. Jamie, the younger Trooper, wandered around the perimeter of the site. Stooping by the fire, Jason cautiously lowered his hand towards the ashes. He found them cool on top and slightly warm below the surface, but no large chunks of charcoal banked and glowing under the ashes. Jason’s heart sank even further. 

Turning to Jake, Jason sighed. “This fire burned out sometime in the early hours this morning. I find it hard to believe that Clay wouldn’t have started it up again this morning for coffee and a hot meal for the kids. He brought bacon and eggs, that would be in his cooler by his car.”

Jake was looking at Jason with a bewildered expression. “How can you tell that? You some kind of woods guide or something?”

Jason snorted. “No, I’m a SEAL. So is he,” Jason pointed to Ray who was looking at Clay’s car, “and so is my teammate who took our kids out camping. After years spent fighting in war-torn countries, you pick up a few tricks to find your targets.” Standing, Jason looked around carefully at what was at the site and, more importantly, what wasn’t there.

“Jase.” Ray said, looking into the front seat of Clay’s car. “I see their phones on the front seat.”

Striding to the Clay’s car, Jason looked in and saw the cell phones. Both Jason and Ray looked at each other, and then turned back to find Jake.

“We’ve got trouble.”

***

“Get over here, GI Joe.” Davie gestured impatiently to Clay.

Weary and sore from two days on the run, Davie knew he wasn’t going to be able to keep an eye on his belligerent hostage. Lou wasn’t used to this kind of exercise, either. Clay eyed Davie uncertainly but made no move to comply. He knew what was going to happen. He wouldn’t be able to protect Jameelah if he was trussed up like a turkey.

“I don’t think so. I’ve never been into bondage. Don’t feel like starting now. If you absolutely have to you can tie my foot to Jameelah’s. Can’t very well run that way, now can I?” Clay fingered his sore jaw and hoped Davie would see it his way. He hoped wrong.

“Lou.” Davie’s word was enough to spring Lou into happy action. Grabbing Clay by one arm, he hauled him up. Clay let him and even helped him with a boost of his feet… and a fist into the underside of Lou’s jaw. He heard the snap of Lou’s teeth as they clacked together and felt his head snap back. The giant stumbled back a step or two as Clay whirled to face Davie. The little convict was waiting for him, with the gun shoved into Mikey’s ear. The boy’s face was white with fear.

“I thought you might try something like that, Mr. Spenser. Why do you think I keep these lovely children so nice and handy all the time? Lou, truss him up for the night, would you?” A feral smile danced across Davie’s face.

Lou’s mouth was bleeding, and he paused to spit out a tooth.

“You fuckin’ asshole! You made me bleed!” Swinging a roundhouse punch, he caught Clay squarely in the stomach and watched in satisfaction as the hostage doubled over with a groan and desperately tried to suck in oxygen. Quickly taking advantage of the SEAL’s incapacitation, he shoved Clay to the ground and had him bound hand and foot within a minute.

Mikey watched helplessly. He had never known such a combination of hate and fear in his young life. Nothing had ever prepared him for this. Not even losing his mom. Jameelah sobbed quietly behind Davie. She didn’t want her Uncle Clay hurt anymore. She wanted to go home and she wanted her Mom and Dad and her brother.

Clay felt a wave of despair wash over him. The odds of all of them getting out of this alive were dwindling by the moment. He could not know that just 15 miles away statements were being taken, swarms of investigators were combing the campgrounds and search teams were being organized for first light.

***

Michael Hayes listened to the sounds of the forest. He had camped with his dad once before but never out in the open like this, lying on the hard earth in the middle of the wilderness. Even as exhausted as he was, it was hard to find sleep. Although it was late summer, here in the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains, the nights grew cool. He had reluctantly accepted Clay’s jacket and, with his backpack for a pillow, was crowding as close to Jameelah as humanly possible.

Clay had made a “Jameelah sandwich”, as he jokingly tried to call it. With Clay’s hands tied behind his back and his feet firmly bound he lay on his side facing Mikey. Between them, the little nine-year-old had quickly dropped off, weary from a long day’s forced march. 

He had then beseeched the tired boy to take the jacket and spread it over both kids and to put his arm over the little girl. “Keep it there all night if you can, Mikey. It’s important. Can you do that for me?”

Mikey had been a bit bewildered by the request but had nodded agreement and settled down to try to find sleep. Eventually he heard the steady breathing of their captors and squirmed a bit trying to find a comfortable spot on the hard ground. He could only imagine how uncomfortable it was for Clay to lie on one arm all night. 

As if Clay had heard his thoughts a whispered voice came softly out of the darkness. “Mikey? Mikey, are you awake?”

“Yeah, are you okay, Uncle Clay?” Mikey raised his head slightly to look over Jameelah. Clay’s eyes were gleaming back at him through the little moonlight that penetrated the foliage.

“Mikey, we need to talk.” Clay shifted a bit, trying to work his way off a sharp pebble. “I think you know that we are in big trouble.”

“Yeah. I kinda got that idea.” Mikey paused for a moment. “They’re going to kill us, aren’t they?”

Clay was surprised at the matter of fact tone the boy had used. He had been dreading this talk. To force a 14-year-old to face such harsh realities went against every paternal instinct he had but Clay was going to have to push Mikey Hayes into adulthood to save his life and that of Jameelah.

“Yes, Mikey, I think so. But not until they’ve gotten everything, they need from us first.” Clay sighed. “I think I have a way, though, for you to get yourself and Jameelah away.”

“What? We can get away? Wait a minute.” Mikey frowned. “What do you mean me and Jameelah? What about you? We’re not going without you!” he hissed.

“Mikey, you’re going to have to. I can’t go and you must get Jameelah to safety. You must be brave and it’s up to you to do this!” Despite his fear for Mikey and Jameelah, Clay was surprised and incredibly proud of Mikey’s desire to stay with him despite knowing the likely outcome.

“I can’t, Uncle Clay! Don’t make me leave you behind! We’ll find a way for all of us to escape!” Mikey was almost sobbing now. Clay shushed him and gave him a moment to settle down. After a few minutes he forced himself to press on, to push the world’s ugliness upon a child he loved.

“Mikey, how much do you know about… uh… um… about sex?”

Mikey was thrown for a mental loop and struggled for a moment to rearrange his thinking. Feeling like this was an important question of some sort he decided to answer honestly. “Uh, pretty much, I think. I mean,” he hastened to add, “I haven’t ever, like, kissed a girl or anything, but the guys on the team told me a bunch of stuff at school, and my dad sat me down and gave me the ‘birds and the bees’ talk.” He couldn’t see Clay in the dark, but he could almost hear his mouth drop open then.

Clay stopped himself from chuckling at his tough as nails boss sitting down trying to discuss “the birds and the bees” with his son. But he had to make sure Mikey understood. “So, you know what a guy does with…?”

Mikey couldn’t look at Clay. “Uh, yeah.”

“And with a woman…?”

“Yeah,” Mikey felt himself blushing in the darkness and suspected he wasn’t the only one. He wondered what Uncle Clay wanted with all this.

“Mikey,” Clay began hesitantly, “Usually sex is a beautiful thing between two adults. Sometimes, though, you get a person who is all twisted up inside and they see it as an act of power over someone. Lou is like that.” Clay let the silence settle for a moment to give the young man a change to absorb the implications. 

The voice that finally answered him out of the darkness was soft and sad. Older, somehow, than it had been only minutes before. “Lou wants to do things with Jameelah, doesn’t he?”

“Yes.” Was Clay’s simple response.

“She’s too little!” Mikey whispered.

“I know.” Clay replied, not sugar-coating the truth.

“And when he’s done, he’ll kill her?” It may have been stated as a question, but Mikey’s voice betrayed the fact that he already knew the answer.

“Yes, but it would not be a quick or easy death.” Clay closed his eyes and sighed inwardly. He hated himself for what he was doing. “And we’ll die, too, when I’ve taken Davie as far as he wants to go. I can’t bear the thought of watching both of you die, Mikey. I can’t do it. You must take Jameelah and go. I’ll tell you how, but you have to promise me you’ll get her to safety.” He was forcing a man’s promise on a 14-year-old boy. He felt like vomiting.

A small silence lay between them for a moment. Clay could hear Mikey’s struggle not to break down and sob. Finally, in a very small voice, so soft that Clay almost missed it, but Michael Hayes agreed to abandon a loved one to a lonely death. “I promise.”

***

Naima Perry had never felt emptier in her life. She sat in the Ranger Station, now a Command Center, and felt oblivious to the controlled chaos around her. Jaime, the young Trooper who had helped her search the campsite earlier, had insisted she take a hot cup of coffee some time ago. She still held it, untouched and cold, in nerveless fingers. Vaguely, as if from a great distance, she could hear Ray and Jason arguing with Jake about the planned search and rescue operation in the morning, with Sonny, Trent and Brock with Cerberus standing behind them.

“Look, we are all SEALs. We know how to track people. We have a working military dog that is familiar with the scents of Clay and our children. Trent is also a certified EMT and our team medic. We’re going.” The tight control in Jason’s voice was almost painful to listen to.

“Listen, Jason, I know you and your team want to help. I would, too. But I haven’t got clearance for you and your team to be on one of the search teams. Besides, everyone is too close to this situation. Emotions are running high and that’s when mistakes are made.” Jake shook his head in frustration. “I know how you feel, but…”

Ray couldn’t stay silent and let Jason take the lead anymore. “No…, you don’t know how we feel. You get us clearance and we’ll stay with the teams and not go off on our own. But we are going, with your search teams or one of our own, so you’d better find a way to make it happen.” Ray’s haggard face was set, his voice quiet but resolute. His mind was made up, and Bravo was backing their 1IC and 2IC.

Jake sighed, then nodded and grabbed his phone out of his pocket.

Naima registered the conversation in the back of her mind as something that should interest her but didn’t. The fact bothered her for a fleeting second and then it was gone. She simply couldn’t feel anything right now except overwhelming fear and loss. Despair crowded close on the heels of those two emotions. She finally raised he head when it registered that Ray had been kneeling in front of her for several moments. 

She looked into his worried eyes. “I want my baby back, Ray.”

Ray closed his eyes for a moment as if steeling himself. “I know, Baby, I know. So, do I. So does Jason. We’ll find them. You must believe that. Why don’t I call Lisa to come and get you and RJ?” 

Naima shook her head frantically. “NO, Ray, I’m not leaving here until I have my baby girl back. Clay promised he’d take care of our children. He PROMISED! I should never have let them go.” Naima knew she was being unreasonable, but she couldn’t help herself. She wanted something, anything, to help her make sense of this nightmare. “I’ll never forgive him if something happens to those children, Ray. Never.”

Ray gently took her hands. “Sweetheart, you know Clay would do anything to keep those kids safe. He loves them. He’ll do his best, baby. I’m sure of it.”

“Well, his best hasn’t been very good so far, has it?! Where are our children, Ray?! I want my baby back and safe in my arms and…” Her breath caught on a sob and suddenly she could feet again. Everything. In one big rush, the days’ events came crashing down on her and she found herself in Ray’s arms, weeping as if the world were ending. Which, for her, it was. Head buried in Ray’s shoulder she sobbed wildly. “He… he promised…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> But obviously not sorry about it enough! Cliff hangar-ish again. :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The escape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quietly drops the chapter, and runs because of the cliffhangers.

Clay had one shot. For the sake of Mikey and Jameelah, he knew that this had to work. He has been on plenty of ops where there were low chances of survival, low success rate, but this was probably going to be the most difficult thing he ever had to do.

Clay made sure the plan was simple, because Mikey was going to have to lead Jameelah through it without her asking any questions. There was a spot in Devil’s Canyon that had about a 20-foot water fall with cliffs on each side. Clay had never been more thankful for a talkative campground guide when he checked in, because the guide revealed that a landslide had created a natural “waterslide” that was popular with kids and teenagers. It was too small for adults, but for anyone small and slender, they would be able to use it. Clay knew that they would have to cross North Creek to continue to the highway. If Mikey and Jameelah could slip away, go down the waterslide, cross North Creek at the bottom and continue west, they would run into a Ranger Station. Best part about this section of the waterfall was that it would be a minimum 30-minute hike to get to an area where they would be able to go down to where the kids were. Clay was betting that Davie and Lou wouldn’t want to go the opposite direction of the highway and would just let the kids go. Why waste daylight searching for kids when they didn’t want to get caught?

When they reached North Creek by the waterfall, Clay planned to call a halt to tie the laces of his hiking boots, which he would conveniently step on to untie. While the two men were keeping a watch on him, Mikey would slip his backpack off and, holding Jameelah’s hand, slip to the edge of the waterfall where they could slide down to the pool below. Clay had given Mikey instructions to keep the backpack out of the water as much as possible, and their clothes should dry as they walked to the Ranger Station. If they were noticed, Clay would tackle the two men and hold them back as best as he could. Once the kids crossed the creek, they needed to head straight west and find Cave Mountain, which would be clearly visible above the trees almost the entire time. It would be a full day’s hike for the two kids, but at the base of Cave Mountain directly in their line of walking would be Glendwood-Pedlar Ranger Station and Campgrounds.

Morning had come way too early for his tired mind but seemed too long for his aching body. The first traces of purple were just beginning to tinge the sky when he nudged Jameelah, still cocooned safely between Mikey and her Uncle.

“Sweetie, I need you to wake up. C’mon, Jammie.” Clay’s murmuring voice slowly roused the young girl from dreams of warm beds and her parents. Mikey stirred as well and cracked his eyes open. He quickly glanced over to see if their captors had begun to rouse and was satisfied that the long, unaccustomed march of the previous day was still exerting a toll.

Clay took in two sets of sleep-filled but suddenly alert eyes and leaned in as far as possible. His voice, earnest and soft, plead with the kids.

“Jameelah, I have something very, very important to ask of you. It’s the most important thing I will ever ask you to do.” He paused a moment to see if she was paying close attention. When she nodded, he continued. “Mikey is going to help you get away today and go back to your parents. We must do this very secretly and quietly. When it’s time to go, Mikey will tell you what to do and I want you to promise me you will obey him completely, with no questions and no arguing, until you are back with your parents. Can you do that for me, Sweetie?”

The little girl gazed deep into Clay’s eyes, reminding him of her father’s penetrating gaze, before whispering, “Yes, Uncle Clay.”

Now came a more difficult task for Clay. “Now one more promise, from both of you. When it is time to go you might hear some… fighting and other noises behind you. You are not to look back or try to come back, under any condition. This is very important, understand? Do not come back for me. Keep going until you get to the Ranger Station.” This last he directed straight at Mikey. Both kid’s eyes were wide and apprehensive, but they nodded in solemn agreement.

They heard a stirring from the two sleeping convicts and quickly closed their eyes, pretending sleep. Clay could hear the large Lou rising and moving toward them. When Lou leaned over them, Clay snapped his eyes open and glared straight into the surprised eyes of the pedophile. “Morning Lou. Out for a jog before breakfast?”

The hulking Lou snarled and gave the bound man a kick in the shins. “Time to wake, soldier. Davie says we need to git movin’.” Bending swiftly, he loosened the knots restraining Clay’s hands and feet then moved back to where the elder escapee was trying to shake the sleep from his eyes.

Able to move for the first time in several hours, Clay tried to pull his arm out from beneath him. He couldn’t feel it. His legs were cramped and sore. Gingerly sitting up, he felt the first rush of blood back into his numb limbs and sucked in a hiss.

Jameelah was there immediately. Concern in her eyes. “Pins and needles, Uncle Clay?”

He laughed at her simple explanation. “More like knives and pokers, Jammie. Could you give Mikey my pack. I don’t think I can pick it up just now and he needs to get some things out of it for breakfast.”

Clay continued to rub his arms and legs, trying to restore circulation enough to be able to move again. The pain was almost excruciating, but he wasn’t about to let the kids know that. It would pass soon enough. He watched as Mikey rummaged about in the SEAL’s pack, ostensibly looking for the fruit bars which were to serve as their breakfast, but surreptitiously transferring trail mix, water and an extra sweatshirt into his own pack. Lou and Davie paid the boy no mind. Both intent on keeping an eye on either Clay or Jameelah. Clay kept it that way by getting up and trying to move about a little, explaining that he needed to get the kinks out before they set out for the day. Behind the two escaped prisoners a boy was preparing himself for a man’s task.

***

Jake had personally attached himself to Jason, and each member of Bravo had their own search team member attached to them also. Everyone in the search party knew that the men were SEALs, but this wasn’t a Navy op, it wasn’t even a military op. They had to be careful how much of the line they were toeing. 

At the campsite, there was no evidence of any foul play. No blood, nothing broken or too misplaced. Their backpacks were gone, along with nonperishable foods and their canteens. The only thing breaking up the scene of a day hike was the shoe prints of prison issued boots. The biggest red flag was Clay’s phone sitting on the front seat. Even if they had the day off, there was always a chance of a spin-up, so Clay should always have had his phone on him.

With only Cerberus with the search party, as they were having to bring in the dogs from another part of the state, they began their search pattern for any clues.

All traces of the missing party had disappeared a scant few yards from the site. Too much vegetation and too many other campers had obscured any trace of the fleeing prisoners and their hostages.

Everyone was spread out in a long line with their search partner, staying within sight of another pair, they had a lot of ground to cover. Luckily, they had access to local, state and federal authorities for the search. At this point, everyone just didn’t want to be the person who came across a body or three.

Bravo team members had strict orders to alert their armed partner if they found anything or caught sight of something out of the ordinary. All the SEALs were a little miffed that the local authorities didn’t want to arm them. They’re probably more qualified than anyone out here to be armed, and they have a bigger reason to be armed and ready to confront the idiots that took their brother and kids.

***

Clay ran his hand back through his curly mop of blonde hair and tried to steady himself. They had arrived at the waterfall and Davie and Lou were looking at the creek that was going over the side. Clay freely admitted to himself that he was terrified. He didn’t care about his life… You had to have the self-preservation of a gnat to run into situations SEALs did. What he was more fearful of was the if this plan didn’t work. If he lived through this experience, but let the kids come to harm, he wouldn’t be able to face Jason, Ray and Naima. He wouldn’t be able to face his brothers. He wouldn’t be able to face himself.

But now it was go time. Casually, with the barest of glances down, his left foot brushed against his right boot and caught the loosely tied lace. He continued to the edge of the creek, making sure the convicts and the kids were following.

“One sec. Got to tie my laces.” He watched as Lou came up beside him, next to the water’s edge. Davie and the kids stayed close behind. He glanced at Mikey, catching his eyes, and looked to wear the slide was down the cliff into the pool below. He could only spare a moment to store one last memory of his brothers’ kids. They were both dirty and disheveled, but the perfect picture to him. Mikey looked scared but determined. He has grown so much older these past two days, and Clay hates the part of himself that has cause it. Jameelah was somber. She could feel the seriousness of the situation they were in, but she still had the childhood look about her. That was all that mattered to Clay. These two kids were the reason why he needed to complete his mission.

“Why are you hanging over my shoulder like a creeper? Never seen someone tie a shoe? Have only used Velcro your entire life? Well, I’ll be a nice guy and show you how to do it, so you don’t have to rely on Davie next time to tie your shoes. You start by making a big bunny ear with one loop, then you take the other lace and make another bunny ear and then you tie them together…” Clay made sure he had both Davie and Lou’s attention. Lou was turning an ugly color of puce and took a threatening step in Clay’s direction. Davie moved away from the kids and got between Lou and Clay before he killed their guide.

Mikey slipped his backpack off and grabbed Jameelah’s hand. The waterfall was giving them the advantage to slip away unheard by the convicts because of the falling water. Mikey stepped back, dragging Jameelah with him until he found the whole that made the slide down the cliff into the pool below.

“… and tuck it through and there you are. A pretty little bow. Eventually you will grow up and be a big boy.” Clay finished saying and continued to watch the children out of the corner of his eye.

“You ain’t so smart, GI Joe. When we get to the highway, you won’t be laughin’ but I will. I’ll have that purdy little girl all to myself.” Lou bellowed in Clay’s face.

Davie quickly put a restraining hand on the big man’s arm. Lou can’t kill their guide yet. They can’t be stranded in this fuckin’ wilderness because that would certainly spell death for them.

Clay smirked arrogantly up into Lou’s rage filled face. As Sonny would say, his “little shit” meter is cranked to a 10 right now, and Clay would crank it higher if it meant that the kids got away. He saw Mikey point down the slide for Jameelah, and she bucked a little bit before sitting down and getting ready to go.

‘Why is he baiting Lou right now?’ Davie thought, and suddenly he realized that there weren’t two little humans next to him. Whipping his head around, he scanned for the kids. “Where are the kids?!”

Clay didn’t let him get anything else out, before he quickly took Lou’s feet out from underneath him and knocked over Davie with a well-placed punch in the solar plexus.

“Go! Go! Go!” Clay yelled, turning just enough to see Jameelah let go and slide down the slide with a scream.

Mikey heard Clay’s shout and turned to watch his Uncle take on the two men. Unfortunately, this caused him to hesitate and he saw that Lou got up and was aim a sharp right hook at Clay’s face. While Clay was getting his face smashed in, Davie was scrambling to his feet, wheezing from punch, but trying to catch Mikey before he could slide down. Mikey sat down, raise the backpack above his head to hopefully try to keep it dry when he landed in the pool below.

Mikey couldn’t hear the sickening sounds of Clay getting his ass kicked over the sounds of the waterfall, but he saw the start of the beating. Just as he started to slide down, he felt someone grab the backpack that was above his head. He felt his descent suspended and looked up into the enraged face of Davie. Panic rose in his throat before he thought of letting go of the backpack. He let go of the straps, and promptly plunged down the hole, sliding down the smooth rock surface and landed in the pool below where Jameelah was standing and waiting for him.

Mikey didn’t hesitate before he stood up, soaking wet, grabbed Jameelah’s hand and raced across North Creek and headed for the trees. It wasn’t until they got across the creek, did a noise stop them in their tracks. The sound of a single gunshot could be heard echoing around and over the sounds of the crashing water from the waterfall.

“Mikey! What about Uncle Clay? That was a gunshot!” Jameelah sobbed as Mikey continued to pull her to the tree line.

Mikey didn’t say anything for a few minutes. How could he comfort Jameelah when all he wanted was to let his own tears fall?

“Jammie, remember you promised that no matter what we hear, our only job is to get back to our parents. That’s our mission right now. We can’t fail the mission, just like our dads can’t fail the missions when they are at work. Once we complete the mission, then we can get Clay help.” He looked down at the little girl that he saw as a little sister. She wiped at the muddy cheek with an even grubbier sleeve of her sweatshirt.

Jameelah simply nodded. Once they got further into the trees and couldn’t hear the waterfall anymore, Mikey looked towards the mountains. Clay said that Cave Mountain had twin peaks with a crater in the middle, the ‘cave’. Mikey found the mountain right away.

“Alright Jammie, Uncle Clay said to continue towards the mountain, and we’ll run into the campground and the Ranger Station is there.” With his sights set on the mountain, now it was time to get to safety and get Uncle Clay help.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Safety for two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for hanging on!
> 
> Enjoy!

Clay wished he came back to consciousness and everything that had transpired in the last two days was all a dream. Unfortunately, reality slammed into him like a wrecking ball. He was in significant pain and was confused on why it was so hard to breathe. His throat felt like he was trying to get air through a straw. He also had a headache that was beating in time with his heartbeat and the pulsing pain in his right shoulder.

Clay’s last clear memory was wrestling with Lou on the ground, trying to prevent his large hands from circling his throat, then a gunshot and fire racing in his shoulder. It distracted him enough that Lou succeed in wrapping his hands around his throat, straddled his chest and started to choke the life out of him. After that, everything went black.

As Clay attempted to blink, one eye seemed swelled/glued shut, and the other seemed to be very slowly coming to focus. When his eye did finally focus, Davie was glaring at him with his arms crossed from where he was sitting on a small boulder and Lou was behind him, opening and closing his fists.

“I see your awake, Mr. Spenser. That was a very nasty and unwise stunt you pulled on us. I was tempted to put a bullet in your head, but I settled for Lou’s attempt at strangulation. It was so tempting to watch Lou finish his task, but we still need to get out of this God forsaken forest.” Davie’s face twisted into a distasteful frown.

Clay ignored the two convicts as he took stock of his condition. The first thing he noted was that he had his hands tied behind his back so he couldn’t maneuver very well. The second thing he noticed was the sloppily tied bandage on his right upper arm. He couldn’t see if the bullet had just grazed him, a through and through or was still in him. Either way, there was only a slow trickle of blood, so it was under control for now. 

He looked down at his shirt and was alarmed at the amount of blood saturating his shirt. Scrunching his face, he could feel blood starting to trickle down from a gash on his right eyebrow. Well, that accounted for why he couldn’t open that eye and the pounding headache, but it didn’t account for the quantity of blood soaking him and the ground around him. With a small scrunch of his nose, his face exploded in pain. He could taste the blood in his mouth, felt it running down his throat, and dripping off the end of his nose. It must have been bleeding for a while, showed no signs of stopping, and Clay was sure his nose was broken. Without being able to feel his face, he couldn’t tell if it was deformed or not.

Running his tongue over his lips, he could tell that the split from Lou’s first fist to the face at the campsite had split even further and he could feel several lacerations on the inside of his cheeks and mouth from where Lou pummeled his cheeks and lips against his teeth.

Overall, there were multiple contusions and scrapes all around him. Several of his ribs were bruised, maybe cracked or broken. What had most of his attention was focused on his throat. Lou’s near strangulation had left his neck and trachea bruised and swollen. His breathing made his throat feel raw and he thought he could hear a whistle with every inhale and exhale. Clay was also sure that Lou’s hand prints were decorating his neck in a morbid mockery of a necklace.

After he took stock of himself, Clay looked up into the face of Lou. The bigger convict’s nose was broken and smashed so far to the right; he knew Lou couldn’t breathe out of it. He smirked in sense of pride of accomplishing that feat. Clay also noted that blood had flowed down the front of Lou’s shirt and he and two beautiful black eyes. He also noted with great satisfaction that Davie was moving somewhat tenderly and was favoring his stomach for the punch he landed in his solar plexus.

Clay couldn’t resist, and it might have been the lack of oxygen, but it popped into his head, “Lou, you look like a raccoon.” Clay tried to smirk, but it split his lip further, so he stopped.

“That is enough, Mr. Spenser. You may have allowed the kids to escape, but you will lead us to the highway. You are not a stupid grunt soldier, I know that now, so I’m sure you have also figured out that you will not make it off this mountain alive. I will give you a choice, however, of making it swift and easy by putting a bullet in your brain or making it long and hard by having Lou rape you to death. It would take no convincing on my part to help Lou satisfy his needs in another way. It is common in prisons.” By this time, Davie had gotten off the rock he had been sitting on and was almost nose-to-nose with Clay, hissing through his teeth in anger. “Do I make myself perfectly clear, Mr. Spenser?”

Clay felt his face drain of color, but managed to whisper out, “Perfectly.”

Davie nodded in satisfaction and gestured to the sulking Lou. “Get him up on his feet and get a leash on him.”

Lou stepped forward and cutting a length of the rope taken from Clay’s Nova, he grabbed Clay by his bound wrists and yanked him up. Clay screamed in pain from the harsh treatment of being yanked up, and his gunshot wound started bleeding again, soaking through the piece of cloth already there and running down his arm to his hand. After getting Clay on his feet, Lou took the length of rope, slipped it around Clay’s already abused neck, and painfully knotted it just below his Adam’s apple. This made a very effective leash, which the big man grabbed in his hand. Lou loved the sudden look of panic that crossed Clay’s face.

“Good doggy. Now you can lead us out of here.” Lou started forward, to cross the creek behind Davie, when he noticed Clay hadn’t started forward. He gave a harsh tug on the leash, that had Clay stumbling forward, coughing.

Clay just bowed his head in defeat and slowly set off in front of the convicts to lead them to the highway.

***

Sonny, holding three steaming cups of coffee, moved to sit next to Ray and Jason. Their search team was halting for a 30-minute rest break, and Bravo team was trying to choke down some of the worst cups of coffee they have ever tasted outside of Afghanistan. There were also some sandwiches, which Sonny said were drier than the Sahara Desert, but Ray and Jason declined. With their stomachs in knots from worry about their kids and their brother, they knew any food would settle like a rock in their stomachs.

Bravo team sat silently together. Sonny, Trent and Brock couldn’t imagine what Ray and Jason were going through with their kids missing. It was hard enough to know their teammate was in mortal danger, much less two kids that they saw as their niece and nephew.

“We have to believe they’ll be alright. The kids are with Clay and he will do everything in his power to get them home safe. You gotta believe that.” Sonny tried to break the silence between everyone with just the right thing to say, but it was hard when he the day stretched on without any sign of the kids, Clay or the convicts. 

Everyone glanced as they heard the footsteps of the team leader approach their group. He was accompanied by an expert search and rescue man from the FBI. Both halted before Ray and he was handed a purple hair scrunchie with unicorns on it.

“It was found while a team was scouting out the trail up ahead. Does it look familiar?” asked the FBI agent. 

Ray held the bit of cloth tenderly in his fingers and nodded mutely. This felt like the final nail in the coffin, and he felt despair fill him that his daughter was indeed in the hands of two convicts. The only small flame of hope now was they were on the right path and he had faith in his brother to get the children home safe.

***

Somewhere on the way to the Ranger Station, the owner of the lost hair scrunchie was trying to get a rock out of her shoe.

“How much longer do we have to walk? Do you think there are any bears or cougars? Do they eat kids? I really want a cheeseburger and if I never seen trail mix again, that it okay with me. Do you think my parents will allow me to get a milkshake with the cheeseburger?” Jameelah chattered to Mikey.

Mikey was only half listening to Jameelah’s chatter while he constantly scouted the area. He hadn’t heard anything from the convicts since the gunshot at the waterfall, but he couldn’t relax. He and Jameelah were in the heart of a forest, so coming across wild animals is a possibility. As his dad always said before hockey games, keep his ‘head on a swivel’, looking for any danger.

Looking above the treetops, Mikey found Cave Mountain again and continue to lead Jameelah in the right direction. He really didn’t want to have to spend the night out in the wilderness in the dark, because the thought of sleeping out here without Clay or one of Bravo was scaring him. Mikey attempted to put any discomfort from his mind, as he was responsible for Jameelah now. Uncle Clay might have given up his life so that Jameelah and he could get away. The least he could do is make it to safety so his sacrifice wasn’t in vain.

Shaking his head, Mikey continued towards Cave Mountain and hopefully safety.

***

Clay stumbled and landed on his knees, for the umpteenth time that day. With his hands tied behind him, and an oaf of a man randomly tugging on his leash, it was hard for him to maintain his balance. Add in the fact that Clay was almost certain he was concussed from Lou’s right hook that broke his nose, his equilibrium was shot to shit.

Earlier while climbing a trail up from North creek, he had fallen numerous times. His knees were getting incredibly sore from constantly landing on them, and he would give anything for his tactical pants with the built-in knee pads right now. After a particularly harsh yank from Lou, Clay’s right knee smacked against a rock with an audible crack. While coughing from the leash abusing his throat, he tried to curl and protect his knee as much as possible, letting the pain wash over him. Unfortunately, he was quickly yanked to his feet and commanded to continue walking. He wasn’t sure what was wrong with that knee, but with every step a sharp pain lanced through it and he could feel it getting hot, and based on how tight his pants started to feel around the knee, it was starting to swell too.

“C’mon, Rambo. Be a good doggie and get goin’,” Lou said. He was entirely too thrilled in his role as leash holder. 

Since Clay had to lead the convicts on the trail, he had to be ahead of them. This led to Lou frequently tugging on the leash around his already abused throat. It would cause Clay to cough and wheeze every time, and if he yanked hard enough, would cause him to go to his knees. Clay climbed painfully to his feet once again, ignoring the sharp pain in his right knee and continued in the direction of the highway. They were going to have to cross Hopper Creek soon, and he was hoping it was as low as North Creek was. He doubted with his hands tied behind his back, along with a bum knee and horrible balance, he would be able to navigate deep water and would probably be swept away downstream.

Couple hours later, the trio were wet and cold from the creek crossing, and Davie wanted to stop for the night. The two convicts were discussing the possibility of a fire, and after a small argument, finally agreed on a small one to dry off and warm up. Davie looked around, found a small secluded site that looked smooth and as rock free as you could get on a forest floor, and ordered them to stop for the night.

“Lou, please tie Mr. Spenser to a tree for the night and then search for some dry wood to make the fire with. I’m going to see what is left in the backpack in way of food.” Davie rummaged around and came up with more of Naima’s brownies, trail mix and two apples.

Lou took the end of the leash, looped the end of Clay’s rope high up on a tree limb and secured it. This left the tether loose enough to allow Clay to sleep on the ground, but not much else.

Clay could care less. He was exhausted, cold, wet, feverish and was struggling to breathe. His hands have been numb for hours, and there was still a small trickle of blood from his nose and shoulder occasionally. He carefully slid down the trunk of the tree and onto the ground, curled himself into a shivering ball and looked up at the stars that were just starting to come out as the sun continued to go down. All it took was Clay closing his one eye, and he was sound asleep.

***

Mikey didn’t want to let Jameelah know, but he was starting to panic. He didn’t have any flashlight; that was in the backpack that Davie had grabbed onto and Mikey let go to escape. They were both thirsty and hungry, not having the canteen or trail mix that was also in the backpack. It was almost completely dark, and they still hadn’t reached the Ranger Station yet. He didn’t want to spend the night out here alone with just Jameelah.

His clothes were still damp from the slide into the creek. He had given Jameelah his sweatshirt when she started the shiver, and he was walking in just his t-shirt and jeans. While she struggled to get it on, Mikey was constantly scanning the forest.

He remembered where Cave Mountain was and started to head that direction again. Unfortunately, with darkness falling, Mikey missed seeing the tree root that was sticking out of the ground. He promptly caught his foot on it and tripped, causing an explosion of pain in his ankle.

Mikey cried out and grabbed his ankle while lying on his side on the forest floor. Jameelah came up alongside him, not sure how to help.

Mikey gritted his teeth and tried to re-assure Jameelah, “I’m okay, Jammie. Just hurts a little bit.”

Jameelah was past her threshold for everything, sat down next to Mikey, and let silent tears run down her face, with a few hiccups out trying to stifle her sobs.

Mikey laid there, almost ready to give up and suggest they stop and rest for the night, when he looked towards Cave Mountain, through the tree trunks, he spied a small light in the distance.

He blinked and shook his head, thinking it was just wishful thinking on his part, but it was still there. “Jammie! I think I see something! See? Over there.” Mikey said, pointing in the direction that they had been walking, “Do you think that’s the campground and Ranger Station?”

Jameelah nodded wearily, wiped her face, stood up and took Mikey’s hand. She helped pull him up into a standing position. She had run out of chatter several hours ago and just wanted to go to sleep. She, too, had no desire to sleep out here in the dark. 

Mikey gingerly placed some of his body weight on his ankle. While uncomfortable, he should be able to make it to the Ranger Station. Jameelah clung tightly to the older boy’s hand. While they would fight and bicker, because they were raised basically like siblings, Mikey seemed so different from the irritating boy she had known just two short days ago.

They continued for what seemed like forever before the light continued to grow larger and brighter. Seeing that light gave them hope that they were on the right track and almost there.

Somewhere around 11 PM, two very weary children walked out of the forest and onto the street lit illuminated asphalt of Glendwood-Pedlar Campground and Ranger Station parking lot. Mikey spotted the Ranger Station right away and was extremely relieved to see two cars right next to it. One was a Ranger Explorer, the other was a State Trooper SUV. 

***

Weary men were gathered around battery powered camp lanterns in small camps across the George Washinton and Jefferson National Forest. Each search team that were heading south had been called to the North now that they had confirmation from Ray that Jameelah’s hair scrunchie was found heading north. 

Ray had that scrunchie on his left wrist, waiting to be re-united with its lost owner. He heard the team leader call in confirmation of the scrunchie and had received no word of how Naima had taken the news. Ray was told that Naima was with a Crisis Councilor and Lisa Davis had driven to the Command Center upon hearing of the situation. She took over watching after RJ while Naima is worried about Jameelah, Mikey and Clay. 

State Troopers were patrolling I-81 now, as well as the revised opinion that the convicts had indeed set across the forest with Clay as their guide and will be trying to hitch a ride at the highway. 

Bravo team were sitting around a picnic table. They knew that they needed to sleep, but their minds were on how Clay and the kids were spending a third night in the company of convicted killers. One downside to their occupation was seeing the worst the world can throw at them. This caused them to think of all the possibilities and it was haunting Bravo.

Sonny was sitting on the picnic bench and leaning against a nearby tree. Someone had given him a sleeping bag and he had it wrapped around his shoulders. Brock was sitting to the right on another table with Cerberus resting with on the tabletop. Everyone knew that they needed to sleep. They had another day of hiking tomorrow, but they needed to stay up with Jason and Ray, who couldn’t fall asleep. No one would be able to get any sleep until they found out what the fate of their brother and children was.

Bravo heard the squawking over the radios from some distance away and wondered what it could be about since everyone should be settling for the night. That was until Bravo heard feet pounding in their direction.

“Jason! Jason Hayes!” The team leader’s shout sent Bravo team on high alert. Everyone tensed; waiting for the other shoe to drop. Jason closed his eyes. He had many horrible moments in his life. Nate’s death. Alana’s accident. Now, he was hoping that this wasn’t going to be the newest worse moment of his life.

“Trooper Stevens over at Glendwood-Pedlar Ranger Station just called in. He said two kids just stumbled in, a teenage boy and a little girl. The boy said his name was Michael Hayes!”

The surrounding men erupted into wild shouts of triumph. The sound seemed to be coming from all around the forest as Ray and Jason absorbed the news that their children had been found.

Suddenly, both Jason and Ray scrambled to his feet, with Jason in his Master Chief voice demanding, “Take us there. NOW!”

The team leader simply nodded and called for the chopper to pick them up. Bravo stood up, prepared to be with their leaders until they got on that helo, and then they would follow the trail back to the truck to drive to the Ranger Station.

What went unnoticed, was that no one said anything about how there was no news of Clay in that report.

***

After hauling the two SEALs up on safety lines, the chopper raced off toward the temporary command post to pick up Naima. The pilot didn’t even have the chance to shut the engine down before Naima Perry was running under the rotor wash with Lisa Davis helping her navigate the rotors. Lisa assisted the frantic mother into the chopper, reached in and grabbed a forearm for both Ray and Jason. She made eye contact with them, smiled and nodded. She then turned away and closed the chopper door. 

Ray found himself with an armful of wife as she flung her arms around him and cried. He quickly hugged her back, a single tear rolling down his cheek into his beard before he broke off the hug and helped her into a harness so that the chopper could take off.

“They’re alive, Ray! They’re alive!” She clung tightly Jason’s and Ray’s hands as the chopper took off once again and sped off into the night.

The flight was short; only 15 minutes, and soon they were landing Glendwood-Pedlar Campground and Ranger Station parking lot. The trio didn’t waste any time, quickly unbuckling their harnesses and exiting the aircraft, bending low to avoid the deadly rotors. Ray made sure to keep a hand on Naima’s head to keep her head low.

They raced across the parking lot and straight to the doors of the Ranger Station. When they burst through the doors, the first sight that met their eyes were two scruffy, blanket wrapped kids that were being looked over by a medic with two State Troopers watching over them.

Nothing in their lives had ever looked more beautiful.

Both children unwrapped themselves from their blankets and sprang into their respective parents’ outstretched arms. Everyone was crying tears of joy at the reunion, even the total strangers. Naima couldn’t kiss her baby fast enough, and Ray and Jason couldn’t stop hugging them.

“Jameelah, are you alright sweetie? Oh, baby, you’re so cold and damp! Mikey, you’re limping! Jason, do you see he’s limping? I need to look at his foot! Oh God, are you hurt? Are either of you hurt?” Naima was distraught at the thought of either child being harmed. Naima was quickly checking both children over with a practiced and nurse-trained eye.

“Dad, Aunt Naima, we’re fine. I twisted my ankle on a tree root in the dark. I’ve had worse at hockey practice.” Mikey reassured them.

Suddenly, Jason and Ray’s faces clouded over. They had both noticed the omission in the radio report.

Jason asked quietly, “Mikey, where’s… where’s Clay?”

Jameelah immediately burst into tears and Naima gathered her quickly into her arms, looking at Ray and Jason with renewed alarm.

Jameelah sobbed brokenheartedly, “The bad guys were hurting him, Mom! Uncle Clay said to get away and not come back, but I wanted to ‘cause they were hurting him! They’re really, really mean, see?” And with that she raised her arm and pulled up the sleeve of the Mikey’s sweatshirt to reveal the bloodstained sleeve of her shirt.

Naima gasped, “Is that your blood, Jammie? Are you hurt?”

“No, Mom! Lou hit Uncle Clay in the mouth and hurt him and I wiped the blood off.” The little girl’s voice took on an angry tone. “He was mean, Daddy, and I want you to shoot him! He wanted to touch me, and Uncle Clay wouldn’t let him.”

Ray and Naima let out an inward sigh as Jameelah answered one of the questions uppermost on their minds.

Jason went on, “Mikey, I think you’d better tell us everything you can, and make sure the officers, here, know as much as you can tell them, too.” Jason was beginning to have a very bad feeling about the outcome of this mission. It seemed that this might turn into a retrieval instead of a rescue.

An hour later, with Jameelah curled up and sleeping safely in her mother’s arms, Mikey finished his story. Jason, Ray and Naima were having a hard time concealing their dismay at the events that had unfolded. Naima especially was looking at Jason and Ray with haunted, guilt-filled eyes. The teenager held nothing back from the distressed adults, even down to the conversation he and Clay had had about sex. Jason was amazed at the courage and responsibility his son had shown, but also saddened by his loss of innocence. Jason’s world wasn’t supposed to touch his kids.

Mikey’s voice echoed with weary despair. “I didn’t want to leave him, Dad. He watched over us, especially Jameelah, and kept that big idiot off her and we just left him there. Lou was beating the crap out of him when we escaped. And before we got to the trees, we both heard a gunshot. I don’t even know if he’s still alive, Dad! I… I don’t know…” Mikey finally gave in to his emotions after holding them in so tightly. He was safe now. Back in his father’s arms. Uncle Clay had told him he had to keep his promise to be responsible only until he was back with his dad. Well, he was now. And he had fulfilled his promise. He flung himself into his father’s arms and wept.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What is happening to Clay?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully this is a good cliff hanger this time. :)

Clay awoke with the help of Lou’s boot to the small of his back. It jolted him awake from the sleep he was attempting to get but was just out of his reach. Struggling to breathe was taking all his energy.

“Hey, Soldier! Git’cher ass up. It’s time to be movin’ again.”

Clay sluggishly pulled his one good eye open and tried to orient himself. His vision seemed blurred and wavering around the edges. His face felt stiff and sticky. He had to coppery tang of old blood on his tongue. When he glanced down at the ground, Clay realized that sometime during the night, his nose had bled profusely again, and had left the dirt and his face soaked in dried blood. Getting his nose set, if he ever got a chance to get it fixed, was going to suck.

Clay felt lightheaded. He knew that he was exhausted, had a fever, was dehydrated, hadn’t really eaten anything besides trail mix and fruit in the past couple of day, and the blood loss was affecting him. He tried to take a deep breath, but it felt like sharp knives were stabbing his throat and he was suddenly coughing and couldn’t stop.

Once he finally got his breathing under control, or what he considered under control, and took stock of his situation. He was struggling to breathe, could only see out one eye, he didn’t want to move his right knee at all, his shoulder felt like it was on fire and his ribs had the dull ache of being cracked. Based on the chills that he was feeling, he was sure that he had a fever going too. ‘Guess it’s a good thing that Davie is going to put me out of my misery soon. Won’t have to worry about a hospital stay and recovery.’

Clay sighed in resignation and looked at the large convict looming over him. He was holding the end of Clay’s ‘leash’ and was waiting for Clay to get up. Clay looked down at his knee, now swollen twice its normal size, to his gunshot wound that was weeping something that wasn’t blood and then taking into consideration his inability to take a decent breath, there was no way that he was hiking anywhere.

In a voice barely above a whisper, Clay said, “I hate to admit this, but I think this is as far as I’m going to go.”

Davie came over and stood over Clay, analyzing the man they had hog-tied on the forest floor. “Lou, get him on his feet.”

Lou bent at the waist and grabbing Clay’s upper arms with his two massive arms, hauled the injured SEAL roughly to his feet.

Clay let loose a hoarse cry. Being yanked up left him lightheaded; putting weight on his knee was more excruciating that Lou grabbing his gunshot wound. Said gunshot wound began to bleed again, seeping under the crude dressing and showing a milky, yellow suppuration from underneath. Well, that explained where his fever was coming from.

The pain left Clay gasping. “Fuck, Lou!” He gasped, trying to draw air through a narrowing straw.

The man in question just grinned maliciously and moved back behind Davie. 

Clay used the little air he managed to breathe in to mutter, “Asshole,” under his breath.

That muttered phrase cost him as another fit of wet, painful coughing. When the episode had passed, a spent and gasping Clay was leaning against the tree he was tied to and was surprised to find Davie holding their last remaining water canteen in front of him.

“I think you had better have a little, Mr. Spenser. You still have a highway to get us to, I believe?” Davie’s voice was all false solicitousness.

Clay didn’t think we would be able to get anything down his throat; he was struggling to get air down his bruised and swollen throat. Clay knew he was getting severely dehydrated, but he still tried to get some water down his throat.

“If you continue to follow this trail, you should hit the highway by late today.” Clay answered in a raspy voice. “You can probably save yourself a bullet, though. One more day out here will probably kill me.”

Davie’s eyebrows shot up in astonishment. “You still need to take us to the highway.”

Clay looked Davie in the eye. “I can’t breathe. My knee is going to continue to give out. The gunshot wound is infected. Take your pick; but either way the chances of me walking any further or slim to none. The SEAL was abnormally calm about his predicament.

Clay was anything but calm, but he wasn’t going to give the two convicts the satisfaction of knowing that. Where there was life, there was hope, and even in his current condition, the longer he could survive, there was still the possibility of a rescue.

It was worth trying. He painful tried to put his weight on his leg, which promptly buckled on under his weight and he crashed to the floor, wheezing through his pain.

***

As the sun rose over the eastern sky, Bravo team with Blackburn and Full Metal and a search crew that was hand-picked from the elite Law Enforcement, Search and Rescue and K-9 teams gathered near the waterfall at North Creek that had been Mikey and Jameelah’s salvation. Mikey had wanted to come with them instead of going to the nearby hospital to get checked over. He wanted to show them personally the spot where they had their escape and to be on the rescue of Uncle Clay.  
The response had been a resounding and instantaneous ‘NO!’ from all the adults. 

Jason had been so forceful in his answer that he had even startled his team in his vehemence. He had an overwhelming need to keep his son safe. He had just pulled his son out of this nightmare; he wasn’t going to allow him to step back into it. 

Even worse, and they were horrified to even think it, they had no idea what they would find. Would they find Clay alive but injured or would they indeed discover the worst? Jason was not and would not add to his son’s trauma by exposing him to Clay’s dead body. He and everyone on Bravo were having a hard-enough time dealing with the concept that Clay might have died in that single gunshot that the kids heard. Jason had promised his son that Bravo would find Clay and bring him home. What went unstated by the team was Jason couldn’t promise Mikey that Clay would be coming home alive. There were too many unknowns to make that promise.

Sarge was the leader of the elite search team. He was a crusty old Marine and although he respected the SEALs, he knew they would not be able to be armed and confront the convicts. The first reason was this was a civilian rescue mission and the second reason is that law enforcement wanted the convicts alive if possible. If Bravo team got to them first, they would not live to see another day. Sarge had been working with the leader of the second, larger party that was starting from the highway. The plan was simple, and Bravo team had to agree that the plan would allow both teams to move swiftly and enclose the escapees in a pincer movement. The larger party would start the sweeping pattern from the highway, while Sarge’s team would pick up the trail from the prisoner’s last known location, which Mikey provided from the safety of the Ranger Station.

This plan allowed for the search dogs and Cerberus to pick up their scents and follow the trail. What conveniently had not been mentioned was that the search dogs and Cerberus would have an easier time finding the convicts and Clay if he was still alive be there would be a blood trail to follow. If they found Clay’s body, they would bring him home, making sure they took upmost care with the brother who had saved their kids. If they found Clay alive, they would move heaven and earth to heal him and make sure he knows that he is a valued member of their family.

The sun’s rays were filtering through the trees and illuminated the area where Mikey and Jameelah had last seen their captors. Bravo didn’t need their advanced training to picture the scene in their heads. The dusty ground on the creek bed had been disturbed. Adult-sized shoe prints were intermingled with the hiking boots that they were familiar with as they wore them every day. What made them sick to their stomach was the smaller sneaker shoe prints of the kids that they could see along the man-sized ones. What also made them swallow down bile was the several dark areas on the hard-packed earth. It did take a genius to know that it was dried blood. One spot was quite sizable, but there was hope. No body laying here meant that there was a still the chance that Clay was alive. It wasn’t a retrieval yet; it was still rescue. They forced themselves to watch the two German Shepherds sniffing excitedly around the only physical traces of their brother and the convicts.

Jason was glancing around the area, and if he wasn’t hunting down escaped convicts, he would have loved to take Emma and Mikey here. A flash of color by the edge of the waterfall caught Jason’s eye, and he took the few steps towards the object on the ground. He bent down next to the hole that the kids slid down to escape and picked up Mikey’s backpack. His stomach lurched at the possibilities that flashed through his mind as he looked at the discarded backpack. He has been a SEAL for almost 20 years, and for the first time, the scene that was pictured in his mind, if his son hadn’t gotten away, made him stumble to the brush alongside the river bed to vomit what little he ate that morning.

He looked up to a hand landing on his shoulder and looked into Ray’s eyes. He saw the understanding in those eyes, of what could have happened to his daughter. Behind Ray, he saw everyone of Bravo giving him a look of determination. They will find their brother, come hell or high water.

***

Clay shifted his weight once again and opened his good eye to look around. ‘It was a beautiful day,’ Clay thought. ‘Much too beautiful a day to die,’ Clay mused.

Clay could feel the sun’s warmth on his face, and the gentle breeze that was blowing smelled of trees and wildflowers. He could hear birds singing in the treetops and the gentle rustling of trees. Nature was absolutely gorgeous this time of year, and Clay could imagine all the barbecues and picnics that the team would be planning, the kids playing in the yards, Sonny refusing to let anyone touch the meat because only a Texan knew how to cook over an open flame.

This would have been the last day of camping and hiking for he and the kids. It would have been a perfect ending to a wonderful long weekend for the kids. Now, Clay was destined for another kind of ending.

Clay shifted his weight again, attempted to gasp when he put weight on his bad knee, and the rope pulled even tighter on his already swollen throat, cutting off his air supply for a few seconds before he could regain his balance.

Clay wondered how Mikey and Jameelah were doing. If all had gone as planned, and Clay wouldn’t even entertain the idea that anything else could have happened, they should be safe in their parent’s arms. It will haunt him to his grave that he will probably never be able to know if they were safe. If he had succeeded in his last mission. He had promised that he would keep them safe and he had taken his best shot. He just hoped that his shot had been good enough. He hoped that Jason, Ray, Naima and the rest of Bravo could forgive him for the trauma their children had gone through.

Clay felt a tear run out of his one open eye, down his cheek and into his beard. He tried. He tried so hard to keep those children safe. He just keeps hoping that it was enough.

Shuffling his feet again, the rope pulled on his neck anytime he tried to look anywhere but up. Clay thought how he got into his current position.

***

Clay had shuffled to a stop, trying to pull in a few decent breaths and trying to get his bearings.

Davie stepped up to his side and peered at him with concern. “I do hope you aren’t lost Mr. Spenser. That would be very unfortunate for you.”

Clay shook his head to clear it, but he was still lightheaded. His voice was almost gone, and he had no desire to use what little bit of it he had left talking to this idiot.  
Lou, standing behind their hostage, gave a jerk on the leash around Clay’s neck, which yanked Clay off his feet and reduced him to a coughing fit. The sharp pain from his chest and ribs hurt horribly, but the coughing fit was excruciating. It left him wheezing, gasping for air and extremely dizzy. Laying his face in the dirt, he was shocked to see blood speckling the ground in front of him and he could feel it running down his cheek. 

‘Fuck, that’s not good.’ Clay thought. He wished that Trent was with him to tell him what’s wrong and how he was going to fix it. ‘Hell, I would love for any of my brothers to come in guns blazing.’ His thoughts turned more solemn, ‘I would love to see them one last time.’

“Get up Mr. Spenser.” Davie said, coming over to toe Clay in the hip.

Clay continued to lay there, wheezing and trying to catch his breathe. Even if he wanted to say anything, he had no air to do so. Lou came trudging over and kicked him in the leg. Clay let out a grunt but didn’t move. He had no energy left to continue. Between the fever, exhaustion, dehydration and the injuries he sustained, he could go no further. Lou grabbed the leash and yanked it straight up, choking Clay again. He tried to take in a breath, but no air came in. He attempted to buck his body, but still couldn’t get any air in.

Davie finally made Lou let Clay’s head down, and Clay sucked as much air in as he could through his abused trachea. Every wheeze felt like razor blades were being run up and down the inside of his throat.

“Mr. Spenser, get up now.” Davie said, but Clay just laid there listlessly.

“Why isn’t he getting’ up, Davie?” Lou questioned, looking down at the man they held hostage.

“Think this is as far as he is going to go.” Davie said, also looking at Clay. He knelt next to Clay’s head, “We will put you out of your misery now if you tell us how to get to the highway.”

Clay used the last of his energy to shake his head.

Davie was livid and promptly backhanded Clay. Clay spit out a mouthful of blood and saliva on Davie’s shoe and laid there.

Davie turned to Lou, “Pick him up. We are going to let him hang himself.” 

Lou stepped forward, grabbed Clay under his arms and started to drag him after Davie, who had exited the trail and was walking deeper into the wooded forest. Clay’s vision began to waver, and his attention wandered. He was finding it more and more difficult to keep his mind on the task at hand.

Lou jerked him to his feet, causing him to put pressure on his bad knee and quickly brought him back to reality.

Clay watched disinterested as Lou took his leash and looped it over a branch of a pine tree. He pulled down on the leash, forcing Clay to stand on his toes in order to prevent his own hanging. Once he was satisfied, he knotted the rope well above Clay’s head.

Looking at the predicament that he was in, Clay was trying to work the problem. He couldn’t look down without hanging himself. He couldn’t put his heels on the ground without hanging himself. His numb hands were still tied behind his back so he wouldn’t be able to untie to rope. The situation was starting to get more hopeless by the second. He tried to stifle a cough, because he was sure that if he coughed it would just make his throat worse.

“I’ll ask you one more time, Mr. Spenser, how do we get to the highway? We can make your death fast and quick, or slow and agonizing.” Davie stated, standing in front of Clay.

Clay could barely breathe, but he wasn’t going to give them any sort of information to escape the authorities that had to be following by now. He shook his head.

Just as Davie was going to respond, everyone was startled by the sound of the whup-whup-whup’ of helicopter blades above their heads. In the deep wooded area, the chopper wouldn’t be able to see them, but this was an unexpected complication in their escape. They heard the chopper make a wide turn and come back over just east of their position. This wasn’t an area predisposed to helicopter flight plans. Logically, his survivalist mind told him, they would only be out searching for something or someone in an unlandable terrain such as this. Therefore, the brats must have won through the wilderness and made it to civilization and alerted the authorities.

“Lou, your sweet little girlfriend and the boy have set the authorities on us.” Davie glared at the now gasping SEAL before returning his attention back to the ugly, smash-nosed convict. “I would assume that there are ground teams even now making their way towards us.”

Lou’s face turned from studious concentration to white with fear as he figured out the meaning behind his partner’s words. “There comin’ to git us? I ain’t going back ta prison, Davie! You gotta do something! You’ll figure out somethin’. You’re real good at figurin’ out things. Let me kill ‘im now and then we can git away.” One beefy hand reached for the gun, but Davie blocked him.

“No Lou, we are going to leave him to his fate. Doubt he will survive much longer.” Davie said, turning and making his way back to the trail. Lou gave one last look at Clay, hanging from his neck and trying to stand on his toes so that he could breathe, before following Davie back to the trail and leaving Clay to be swallowed by nature.

***

Clay tried to keep his head up, but it was a challenge. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he thought that the SERE trainers could take a few pointers. He kept shifting position on his feet the best he could, his hands unfeeling in their tight bonds. Wheezing painfully, he attempted to drop his head forward to cough but was brought up short by the rope around his neck. He tried to tip his head as far back as possible and tried to draw breath into his lungs through his abused and swollen throat.

Looking around him with one slitted eye, Clay was vaguely disconcerted at the dreamlike quality of his surroundings. He watched the convicts scamper off back to the trail and noticed that the tree and sky looked funny. It reminded him of that one-time Brian convinced him to drink that foreign liquor that burned like hell during their first deployment. A giggle escaped him at the memory.

He looked at the woods, and to his surprise Ash was standing there. He was standing on a flat rock just a little above him, making Ash look down at Clay’s position.

‘Look where you are now.’ Ash said while uncrossing his arms. ‘You have always been useless and worthless. Never pulled your own weight.’

Clay wished he was able to speak. He so badly wanted to tell his Dad off.

Ash stepped off the rock and started to walk towards where Clay was standing. ‘Thought you wanted to erase my footsteps. Because where I’m standing, you will be known as the SEAL that couldn’t survive a hike in the woods. They did worse during SERE training.’

Clay shuffled his feet, trying to get enough air to tell his Dad to fuck off. He was better than him because those kids survived this ordeal. Mikey and Jameelah had to survive. If they hadn’t, his life was forfeit.

‘Best thing I ever did in my life was convince your mother to send you to her parents in Liberia. You were dragging our marriage down and the last thing either of us wanted was a snot-nosed brat trailing after us.’ Ash was standing almost face to face with Clay now. ‘Even now, you still manage to embarrass the Spenser name.’

Clay was done, he looked down, felt the leash now noose around his throat pull tight and cut off his limited breathing. It took him a few seconds to get his feet situated and look up again to gulp in a breath of air. When he looked around again, Clay’s fevered eye couldn’t find Ash.

He looked around and there was nothing but him and trees.

He looked up at the rope in the tree and just tried to breathe. If he could survive until his brothers could get to him, everything will be okay. And his brothers would come for him. He just knew it.

A rustling of leaves had him looking towards the trail again. This time Brian was standing in front of him in his jeans and that ugly black shirt that his Papaw gave him. Even after three years, Brian’s omissions and lies still bothered him. He understood coming from a shitty family, but he could have told him to truth.

Brian slowly walked up to him, ‘Well, I’ve found you in some interesting places, but this one takes the cake.’

Clay watched as Brian came to a stop in front of him. 

‘You have grown so much since I have seen you. You have gained a family. What did Seaver tell you? Team is the only family you need.’ Brian looked Clay in the eye. ‘Your team is coming for you, just hold on a little longer.’

Clay wished so he could speak to his friend. To tell him things that have happened since his death but couldn’t. 

Brian started to turn and walk away. ‘Hold on, your team is coming.’

He watched Brian walk away and dissolve into tree trunks surrounding him. Clay knew he had to be hallucinating, but he so wanted to follow. He slowly struggled to get air through his abused airway.

He heard a twig snap and opened his eye, not even realizing he closed it. There in front of him stood Jason Hayes and Ray Perry. Both men had a blank look on their faces. He couldn’t tell if they were going to rip a new one or save him from his own hanging. They both just stood there not saying a single word, with their arms crossed. Clay felt like he was a specimen under a microscope, and he had to explain himself.

Unlike with Ash and Brian, Clay finally got his voice to work. With a hoarseness that sounded like he swallowed sandpaper, Clay tried to reason with them. “Please tell me that Mikey and Jameelah made it. Please tell me they’re safe.”

Jason and Ray didn’t say a word, they just continued to stare at Clay.

Clay tried to swallow, to moisten his throat, to continue. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I didn’t keep them safe. I’m sorry that I didn’t keep my promise. If they didn’t make it, I can’t call myself your brother. I can’t call myself a member of Bravo. If they didn’t make it back to you, back to safety, then I deserve to hang here, to die here, to never be found.”

Again, Jason and Ray continue to stare at Clay without saying anything. Their glares burning a hole in his soul.

“I’m sorry. You must know I tried everything I could to keep them safe. I know I don’t deserve to be called a brother anymore, but please tell me they’re safe.” Clay begged and pleaded with them, tears running out of both eyes, even the one that was swollen shut, down his face and into his beard. 

Jason and Ray took one last look at Clay, then turned without saying a word, and started walking away.

Clay tried to follow. He took a step in their direction, but his bad knee gave out. He didn’t catch himself in time, and his good leg went out from under him too. He fought for precious air as he tried to get to his feet, but spots had begun to dance in front of his already wavering vision. He tried to take in a breath, but nothing happened. He felt like a fish out of water, gasping but with no air movement. Just as black was starting to swallow him again, he felt a set of arms wrap around his upper thighs and lift, taking pressure off his leash. He felt another set of hands on his shoulder and it felt like someone was sawing through the rope that was attached to his neck. Hearing barking, Clay cracked open his one functioning eye and looked straight into the face of Jason Hayes.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clay's been found.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only good thing about COVID-19, I now have plenty of time to write!
> 
> Enjoy!

The hike following the search team dogs was almost unbearable. Bravo team was showing restraint in following the search team. This was an easy hike for them, and they had to stay behind the search team to keep them “well out of harm’s way”. Everything in their bones told them to overtake the team and take the lead, but they didn’t want to step on anyone’s toes and get kicked back to the Command Center. If they got stuck in the Command Center, they would be stuck sitting with their thumbs up their assess, waiting on news of Clay.

They slowly followed the team, Cerb pulling on the leash the entire time. Cerb could easily smell Clay’s trail and wanted to pull them faster. The team came to a bend in the trail, and the German Shepherds spun in a few circles. They sniffed the ground for a few seconds, before they followed the trail still north. Cerb had a different idea. She sniffed the ground and started to pull Brock into the wooded area. 

Jason called to Sarge, “Hey, our dog is pulling us in a different direction.”

Sarge stopped for a moment, “Our dogs are pulling us to the north. We will follow our dogs.” He turned back around to follow the dogs.

“But our dog wants to go in a different direction.” Jason stated, pointing towards were Cerb was pulling Brock into the tree line. “We are going to follow Cerb.”

Sarge looked at Blackburn, and then looked at the rest of Bravo. He could see the determination in their features. They were going to find their teammate, and they were going to follow their dog because they worked with and trusted that dog daily. 

“You have a radio?” Sarge asked. Upon receiving confirmation from Blackburn, Sarge relented. “You have 10 minutes to follow the scent your dog has caught. If after 10 minutes, you don’t have anything to show, you need to turn around and catch up with us.”

Everyone nodded and quickly turned to let Cerb follow the scent that she was so insistent on following. They quickly entered the wooded area and immediately noticed the drag marks on the ground. It boosted their morale to know that they were on the right track.

It only took a few minutes of hiking through before they heard some noises that didn’t sound like the surrounding forest. It sounded like strangled gasps. Coming through the tree trunks, they finally spotted Clay.

He was hanging from a tree, struggling against the rope that was cruelly circling his neck, trying to gain his feet with his hands behind his back. Seeing Clay hanging from a tree, it infuriated all of them. Brock was ready to turn around and let Cerberus go to sink her teeth into the convicts. Trent was wanting his RPG launcher, Sonny was ready to rip the convicts’ apart limb by limb, but Jason and Ray were ready to save the brother that had saved their children at any cost. He didn’t have much time, so Bravo quickly sprang into action.

Blackburn grabbed the radio and let the search teams know that they had Clay and would need medical evac at their location, Sonny ran forward and wrapped his arms around Clay’s upper thighs and hoisted Clay’s body up so that the he could relieve the pressure off his neck. Trent was behind Sonny, stabilizing Clay’s upper torso, while Ray grabbed his knife out of his pocket and reached for the rope hanging from the tree so that he could cut Clay down. Full Metal stood back with Brock to make sure that the convicts were no longer in the area, and Jason got in front of Clay’s face, noticed an eye opening,

“Clay? Clay, it’s Jason. Can you look at me?” Jason started to frantically tugging on the knot of the rope that was tied around Clay’s neck. He could see how tightly the rope constricted his brother’s throat and the difficulty Clay had breathing, but the blonde, curly-haired man didn’t seem to move on his own, didn’t seem to even hear Jason.

By this time, Ray had cut through the rope holding Clay up and together, they carefully lowered and laid Clay on his left side.

“Trent! I can’t get this untied!” His fingers tried to pull at the knot but got nowhere.

While waiting for Trent, Jason knelt and took his first good look into his brother’s face. It was ghastly; bruised and coated with dried blood, dirt and sweat. The only semi-clean spot on his face were the tear tracks going from his eyes down to his beard. His lips were split and mangled, along with being a slight tinge of blue showing he wasn’t getting enough air. His eye was swollen and discolored, the edges of the gash below the eyebrow puffy and red. Clay’s good eye looked out through eyelids at half-mast, distant and unfocused.

Vaguely, Jason registered the radio in Blackburn’s had acknowledging that they found Clay and medical help was on the way in the form of two search and rescue personnel carrying equipment in a rigid stretcher.

With his brothers surrounding him, Trent looked into Clay’s face. “Clay? It’s me, brother. It’s Trent. Can you look at me?” Trent tried to keep any anxiousness out of his voice, tried to be as calm and soothing as possible. He placed a hand against Clay’s forehead, felt the heat radiating and saw the fever glaze in his one good eye. Clay slowly moved his head and turned to the sound of the kind voice.

Jason saw him struggle to bring the world back into focus, saw his eyes shift and begin to clear. 

Clay gazed with bewilderment at the person before him and rasped in a voice raw with sickness, abuse and dehydration. “Boss?”

Jason had to smile. Clay was with it enough to recognize him.

Clay’s eye tracked to the right, taking in everyone’s faces. “Guys? Came to join the fun?”

Sonny couldn’t help the almost hysterical snort that erupted. Before he could remark on Clay’s question, Clay burst forth with a series of deep, painful and bubbly coughs.

Trent was dismayed to see bloody froth flecking his brother’s lips as the wracking cough went on and on. Finally, Clay lay, gasping and spent, trying to suck in enough air through his tortured and abused throat. He tried to smirk, but it only served to crack his lips open again.

“Fuck. That hurt.” Clay looked around and took in the chaotic scene happening around him. He let it all sink in as he labored to breathe. With Clay now on his side, Sonny could now attack his bound wrists and moved to free them. He tried to slip his pocketknife between the rope and the skin, but Clay’s wrists were so swollen that it was impossible to wedge the knife between the skin and the help without cutting his brother in the process. 

For some reason, this tiny act of help that he was unable to perform, bothered Sonny more than anything else up to this point. He threw down the knife and stood abruptly, turning and with an open hand, slapped a tree trunk. Jason had to give him props for not using his fist but was more concentrated on Clay right now.

“I can’t get him loose, Boss! The ropes are too tight, and his hands are really swollen, and I can’t get him LOOSE!” Sonny choked out the words and turned away, his shoulders hitching to contain his emotion. Jason felt for him but couldn’t leave Clay to offer any solace. Now that he had something to do, he was feeling more in control and calmer. 

Trent spoke up and got Sonny’s attention. “Sonny? Sonny! You and Brock can go and meet the medical personnel and help them get here faster. Also, get a pair of bandage scissors from them. They have blunt ends and won’t hurt Clay when we cut through the ropes.” Trent’s voice was sure and professional. Sonny soaked it in and shook himself. He had been given a task.

Sonny nodded purposefully, motioned for Brock to follow him and started to jog off. “Got it.”

Full Metal stood up, and dropped his pack to the ground, and started to dig around in it. He pulled out a collapsible shovel, grabbed his pack and pulled it back on. “I’m going to make sure those convicts don’t see tomorrow.” With a nod of Blackburn’s head, Full Metal took off with his shovel in hand, and the rest of Bravo could focus on Clay.

Clay swiveled his head slowly back to look at Jason’s face. Jason was busy unscrewing the cap of a canteen full of water.

“Boss.” Clay’s anguished whisper stopped everyone in mid-action, and he looked into his brothers’ faces full of remorse and fear. “Boss. Ray. The kids. Please… tell me you’re here… because Mikey and Jameelah made it.” The gasps of breath came quicker now, and both Jason and Ray were astonished to see tears welling in Clay’s eyes, even around the swollen lids of the injured one. “They have to be… alright. Jason… Ray… If they aren’t…” Clay let out a strangled sob.

Both Jason and Ray knelt in front of Clay, so they could both look him in his good eye. Jason had to blink back his own tears before he could answer, “Clay. They’re fine. You kept them safe, Clay. You kept them safe.”

***

Sonny stumbled over a tree root and righted himself. He and Brock were holding one end of the rigid stretcher, while the medical team held on to the other end, panting and swearing softly at the pace the SEALs set, as they lugged the heavy equipment through the dense trees.

The clearing came into view and the stocky SEAL put on a burst of speed, which caused the medical team to swear again. Sonny slid to a stop next to Trent, panting and triumphantly brandishing a pair of bandage scissors. Clay was now propped up on several backpacks to ease his breathing. In Sonny’s previous haste to free his brother, he hadn’t really gotten a good look at him. His curly-haired friend barely looked human. Covered with dirt, sweat and blood, his clothing torn and mud-covered, Clay looked like something from a horror movie. His hair was stuck to his head in some places, and sticking up in others by old, dried blood. 

Clay was panting in short, gasping breaths, looking up at his brother and attempted to smile, “Son…Sonny Quinn… stop staring… and get… me… loose.”

Sonny flushed in embarrassment and dropped to his knees beside his friend. “Sorry, Clay, but you look like something the cat dragged in and you stink to high heaven.”

He heard a snort from the prone man as Sonny handed the bandage scissors over to Trent so that he could work the rope around Clay’s throat. Trent very carefully slid the blunted tip of the bandage scissors between the loop of rope and the swollen skin of Clay’s neck. It took several minutes with breaks for Clay to gulp in a few breaths before the bandage scissors managed to cut through the thick barrier. Once Trent was finally through, he handed the scissors back to Sonny so that he could work on the rope around his wrists. Trent carefully pulled the rope away from Clay’s throat so that he could take his first unrestricted breath in in over a day.

While Trent and Jason were at Clay’s head, Ray and Sonny were working on Clay’s wrists. Sonny also very carefully slid the bandage scissors between the first loop of rope and the swollen skin of Clay’s wrist. After several minutes, the first loop finally parted. Sonny quickly unwound the remaining loops and very slowly brought the injured man’s arms around to the front for the first time in almost 36 hours. Clay let out a moan as his cramped muscles, and his arm with the gunshot wound, protested. The gunshot wound broke open again, oozing blood and pus down his arm and Trent was quick to hand Ray some gauze to press against the wound.

Sonny started rubbing Clay’s puffy, discolored hands gently in his own hands. He could see that Clay was obviously agitated and in pain from the returning circulation. Clay’s lips were pressed tightly together and the cords in his neck stood out as he gritted his teeth. 

Trent was busy reaching into the various kits to get his diagnostic instruments out, but he glanced at his brother. Trent knew Clay was trying to tough it out, but the effort to stay awake and coherent was costing him. Clay’s energy was flagging fast. Another round of coughing overtook Clay as Trent finally found the BP cuff. He watched as Sonny, Jason and Ray helped Clay sit up. Clay was attempting to wrap his weakened arms around his aching chest to support his painful coughing, but he just didn’t have the strength. Trent was forever thankful that the medical personnel brought an oxygen tank with them, and quickly slid an oxygen mask down over Clay’s face and adjusted the flow to 100%.

While Trent was busy getting vitals and assessing injuries, Ray took the bandage scissors and started to cut up Clay’s pant leg where he could tell Clay’s knee was swollen.

Luckily, Trent was known for talking out loud while assessing injuries. Habit from the field so Jason knew what was going on. “Alright, we have a gunshot wound to the right upper arm, no exit wound, so the assumption is the bullet is still in there. Swollen, red with discharge, so that is probably where the fever started. Laceration above the right eye, also with swelling and discharge. Lost a large quantity of blood through the nose, but that’s not surprising with his face smashed in. Many contusions over the face and chest, and the tenderness in the ribcage means that he at least has bruised, maybe even cracked ribs. Gross amounts of swelling in his right knee, along with a deformity, so something is going on with it.” Trent glanced up at the rest of the team and could tell they were all barely hanging on to their emotions, and he hadn’t gotten to the toughest part.

“He is experiencing severe difficulty with air exchange and he is expectorating a bloody froth. Severe swelling and bruising around the neck indicating possible strangulation, possibly more than once. He’s feverish at 102, BP is 100/60, pulse is thread at 110 and respirations are 32 and shallow. He’s displaying cyanosis of the lips and nails and is semi-coherent.” Trent finished.

“What can we do here, Trent?” Jason asked, not liking that list of injuries.

“We are going to keep him on 100% oxygen, and then start him on two IVs. One with Ringers wide open and the other with saline to keep the vein open. When he gets to the hospital, he’ll have plenty of corticosteroids in his future. I’m also going to get him in a C-collar to try to protect his neck and airway and then splint his knee.” Trent responded and then turned to the medical personnel that brought the rigid stretcher with all the supplies. “What is our estimated ETA to the nearest hospital.”

The medic looked at Trent and the surrounding SEALs, “It will take us about 20 minutes to walk from here to the chopper and then it’s about 10 minutes by air to the hospital.”

With a nod of Jason’s head, Trent set to work. He moved to where Clay was reclined, gasping in quick, short breaths. He knew that Clay’s trachea may be swelling, but he wanted to make sure that Clay was aware of what going on. Clay’s eyes were at half-mast and wandered from time to time, as if he was trying to keep track of all his brothers. Trent grabbed several alcohol wipes, handed a few more to Jason, and both scrubbed a spot clean in the crook of Clay’s elbows. It took both men two wipes to swab away all the dirt and leave the site disinfected. Both quickly started their respective IVs, and then adjusted them to the proper flow. He watched as Ray grabbed the C-collar and placed it around Clay’s neck. Trent then busied himself with splinting Clay’s knee. He was glad that Clay was mostly out of it, because splinting the knee hurt him just trying to be gentle.

Sonny and Brock placed the rigid stretcher on the ground next to their injured brother, and working their way around Clay’s various IV lines, splints and O2 tubing, each member of Bravo managed to grab somewhere on Clay to gently lift him and guide him into the stretcher. Sonny cradled Clay’s head for a second, then gently withdrew his hand.

Trying valiantly to smile, Clay looked up into Sonny’s face. “Sonny?”

The Texan gazed down at his brother. “Yeah, Bam Bam?”

Clay took a quick breath before getting out, “I need a bath.”

Sonny and his Bravo around him couldn’t help themselves. They burst out laughing. “Well, Lil’ Buddy, I’m not gonna argue with you over that one.”

Trent started piling the O2 canister between Clay’s legs and made sure the IV cannulas weren’t tangled, the IV bags under each shoulder, then everyone but Brock and Trent grabbed a corner of the rigid stretcher. Brock with Cerb would make sure that the path to the chopper is clear, and Trent would make sure Clay remained stable on the trek to the chopper and then on the way to the hospital. Jason, Ray, Sonny and Blackburn hoisted the stretcher up on the three-count and began the hike away from this nightmare.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Starting the road to recovery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope everyone is staying safe out there!
> 
> Enjoy!

Clay didn’t remember much of the trip to the hospital. Everything took on a hazy, surrealistic quality. He heard the hushed and panting voices of his brothers above him. The rhythmic swaying of the stretcher and the flashing of green treetops turning into the flashing of helicopter blades in the sunlight.

Words turned even more muffled and far away, just out of his reach. He continued to struggle to pull air through his abused throat and felt the edges of his vision blur away. Sometime during the flight, the altitude changed causing his nose to start bleeding again. For one panic filled moment, as the blood streamed from his nose, down his face and began to fill the oxygen mask fitted snugly over his nose and mouth.

Clay thought he would drown in his own blood. He could feel it filling his mouth and a choking cough splattered his own life’s fluid across the inside of the mask. Then Trent was there. The mask was gone, and he was gently but quickly turned on his side, coughing the blood out of his airway, wheezing to pull in breath, and feeling more blood trickling down his face and pooling on the helicopter floor.

Clay’s blood pressure dropped again, and he slipped into a twilight haze, but he was confident in his brother’s skills to keep him alive.

***

The overhead exam light hurt the one eye he was able to open. Voices were all around him again, some were soft and comforting, others were sharp and barking out orders. The one voice he recognized was Trent’s, who was updating the ER physician on his injuries and medical history.

The physician started issuing orders to the nurses helping, “Get me neck, knee and c-spine x-rays. I also want a chest x-rays to rule out fractured ribs. I also want blood drawn. Get me the following labs: CBC, CMP, coagulation studies, lactic acid and ABG. We’ll wait to see if he needs a CT angiogram. Let’s have a unit of blood sent up and hang another bag of Ringers. He’s still dehydrated after two bags of fluids. What is his temp?”

Clay didn’t hear the answer to the physicians’ question. Sounds had turned muffled and distorted again. He thought he heard Trent’s voice and tried to call out to him, wanting to know what was happening to him, but he ended up coughing and wheezing, trying to get more air. A clean oxygen mask appeared over his face again and 100% pure oxygen streamed through his abused trachea and into his lungs. He lay on the gurney, exhausted and panting. Clay watched as a nurse escorted Trent away, and he tried to lift his good arm and reach for his brother. He was just too tired and slowly drifted asleep.

***

Trent was exhausted. He couldn’t remember when he had been so exhausted outside of deployment. The last few days had been a nightmare beyond anything he had ever imagined, and it wasn’t even his kids that were held hostage. He slowly made his way to the nurses’ lounge where the hospital staff had placed Bravo team while waiting on news of Clay. News media were already parked outside the entrance, waiting for anyone that had some form of information to come out and they could pounce.

When Trent opened the door, everyone of Bravo jumped to their feet, waiting to get the latest update. Sonny had been busy staring at the lounge refrigerator as if it were something new and completely alien. Brock had been sitting on the floor with Cerb in his lap, petting her for comfort and the job well done. Blackburn was on his phone, probably notifying the Brass of Clay’s rescue. Ray had been sitting on the couch, his head bowed, lips moving in a silent prayer. Finally, Jason had been pacing the middle of the lounge, waiting for news on his youngest brother.

“What’s the damage Trent?” Jason asked, not mixing any words and wanting to know the facts.

Trent gave everyone a weary smile. “I think he’ll be fine, given a little time and care. We had a slight incident in the helo when we couldn’t get the blood from his nose stopped and he faded into unconsciousness when his blood pressure dropped. I’m guessing there’s a ruptured blood vessel in his nose when it broke.” Trent would admit that it had scared him. Clay had so much blood coming from his nose, and even with Trent’s training, it was hard to see his brother’s blood covered, pale face.

Looking at Bravo, Trent continued. “His knee has a fracture to the patella, but luckily it was a simple transverse fracture, easily fixed with surgery. The gunshot wound is infected, and they will be going in to find the bullet and clean out the infection before suturing it closed. His nose will also be set while he is in surgery for his knee and shoulder. They’ll suture the cut above his eye and then they’ll want to keep an eye on him for several days.”

Sonny swallowed and had to ask, “What about his neck, Trent?”

Trent took a breath of his own. “They are running the standard tests right now. Complete Blood Count, Complete Metabolic Panel, blood clotting, lactic acid, and arterial blood gasses. Pending the results, they may want to do a CT angiogram to check for brain damage.”

“What do you mean brain damage?” Jason barked out his question.

“Depending on how long he was without oxygen, parts of the brain could have died. Good news is that he recognized and could converse with us, so I don’t think that they would need to do it.” Trent reassured the team. “Either way, he is looking like at least six months of rehab for his knee after surgery.”

As Trent finished his explanation of Clay’s injuries, the door behind him was pushed open by Naima and Lisa with the children in tow. Ray and Jason both approached them. 

“Naima. The kids shouldn’t be here.” He admonished her softly, even as he gathered Jameelah into his arms. Jason pulling his son into his own arms.

Both men were content to hold them in their arms because they were real and alive. It was the greatest feeling in the world, and they were suddenly glad that Naima and Lisa had brought them. Some of their fatigue slipped away and was replaced with an almost overwhelming and fierce feeling of love. Anything was worth this feeling.

Naima sank onto the couch that her husband had vacated, RJ sleeping in her arms, and Lisa pulled Sonny over to sit next to her on the couch too. After giving Sonny a warm smile, Lisa reached over and gave Naima a squeeze on the arm to show her support.

Naima turned to her husband and Jason. “I couldn’t keep them away, Honey, and I couldn’t bear to be separated from our babies for a few minutes. They insisted on coming and they understand better than any of us, what Clay has been through. I… I wasn’t sure if it was a good idea, but the crisis counselor said that this will start the process of getting closure. They don’t need to see him right away, but they need to be here to support him.”

Mikey looked up into Jason’s eyes. “I won’t leave Uncle Clay again, Dad. I need to be here. He needs to know that I’m here. I…” The young man’s eyes filled with tears and Jason hugged him close, hand reaching up to cup the back of his head. If he had ever thought his son irresponsible in the past, he would never think that again. Mikey had a crash course in responsibility.

Jameelah was sitting next to her mom on the couch and watched Mikey and Jason solemnly. All the adults tried to talk around her, thinking she was too young to hear or understand everything that was going on. Like most young children, she understood far more than the adults thought she did. She has seen the change in Mikey that has taken place over these past few days and over the course of this nightmare. She understood them but kept silent. It was easier that way.

Mikey disengaged himself from his father’s arms and limped over to Trent. His rolled ankle was only slightly swollen and tender, but he wanted the truth about Uncle Clay. “I need to see Uncle Clay. When can I see him?”

Trent considered the solemn young man before him. Trent could remember when he was just a toddler waddling around when he first joined the team and now, he was almost a full-grown man. “Well Mikey, Clay will be heading to surgery to fix his knee and his nose, but also to get the bullet out of his shoulder and to clean the gunshot wound. Once he is out of surgery, he’s going to be out of it until they move him to a room, and then the nurses need to clean him up a bit. I’m guessing it will be a minimum of three hours. When you do see him, he may not be able to speak to you because he will have an oxygen mask on to help him get enough oxygen. They haven’t had to intubate him yet, but if his throat gets worse, they might. He’s going to need some TLC for a while.”

Mikey nodded and Trent went on, making sure he caught everyone’s attention, even Jameelah’s. “I want you all to be prepared. Clay is not a pretty sight right now, so don’t be too alarmed. The cuts and bruises will go away with time, best way to think of it is he got banged up on a rough spin-up.” He felt satisfied that both kids nodded in understanding, and everyone settled in to wait for Clay to get out of surgery.

Before too much time passed, Full Metal came into the nurses’ lounge. He immediately had everyone’s attention on him. 

“What’s the situation?” Blackburn asked the question that everyone wanted to know.

“Both convicts are dead.” Full Metal replied. “Law enforcement caught them about a mile from the highway. Surrounded them, but they didn’t want to go down without a fight.”

“Did they go quickly?” Jason wanted to know.

Full Metal nodded. “They tried to talk them down, but the big guy kept going on and on about how the ‘soldier took his precious treasure’ and then charged a group of officers. Sniper got him between the eyes.”

Ray clenched his jaw and pulled Jameelah into his arms. “One less of those in this world, makes the whole world better.”

“The little convict went berserk after that and started firing shots everywhere. They put him down with another sniper round.” Full Metal finished his explanation.

“They didn’t suffer for what they put GQ through?” Sonny asked. Upon Full Metal headshake, he stood up and paced the room. “That makes me madder than a midget with a yo-yo.”

“They got their punishment.” Ray reasoned. “Clay got his justice. I’m just sorry that Clay couldn’t get it for himself.”

“From here, we just need to heal and move forward.” Naima said, glad her two babies were safe and everyone she cared about came out from this nightmare alive.

Silence descended upon everyone while they waited for news.

***

Lisa Davis sighed as she gently ran her fingers through Clay’s blonde curls on the pillow below her.

“Clay Spenser, how do you manage to get yourself into these situations,” she murmured softly. She had seen the dark bruises covering his battered body, the broken knee and face. What bothered her the most was the string of purple, finger-shaped marks around her friend throat, and the solid red, almost magenta ligature mark from the leash. They were a blatant reminder of the viciousness of man. She was familiar with the damage that terrorists could unleash, but they were home. Clay was taking the kids camping. They should have been safe.

Officer Davis carefully patted Clay’s hair around an abrasion near Clay’s hairline and continued observed the man in front of her. When the door creaked open, she turned her head to see Trent looking in.

“Hey, just checking to see if he is ready for some visitors.” Trent whispered and received a nod from Lisa. He quietly pushed the door open a little farther and slipped in, followed just as quietly by Jason, Ray, Naima, Mikey and Jameelah. They all stood quietly for a moment, watching the rise and fall of Clay’s chest.

Trent noticed the kids were watching Clay with great interest. He couldn’t blame them, as the last time they saw him, might have been their last. He finally broke the silence that had fallen over the room. “He’s going to be okay, kids. He’s just sleeping off the anesthesia from the surgery. They had to pin his broken kneecap, along with set his nose, and they also needed to fix his shoulder. He was tired to begin with, so he will be sleeping until sometime tomorrow. That’s really the best thing for him right now.”

Jason noticed Mikey eyes were fixed on the ring of bruises around Clay’s neck, along with the sling they put Clay’s injured arm in. He was so glad that Mikey couldn’t see the rest of the damage that was under the blanket.

Jameelah reached for Mikey’s hand when he slowly moved forward. Mikey rested his hand on Clay’s good arm, being careful not to disturb the IV’s in his arm. He studied each cut and abrasion on his Uncle Clay’s face and cut his eyes to his father. 

“He knew they were going to do this you know. He didn’t care.” The young man pointed to the strangulation marks. “It looks like Lou tried to kill him. He knew they were going to in the end, anyway.”

Naima caught her breath at the matter-of-fact tone in his voice, handed the still sleeping RJ to Ray and stepped forward, wrapping her arms around both children. “It’s over, sweetheart. They’re gone and they can’t hurt you, Jameelah or Clay ever again. I think we should all go home and let Uncle Clay sleep now, okay?”

Jameelah stepped towards the head of Clay’s bed. Ray reached out to pull her away, but she shook off his hand and carefully leaned over the railing. Getting close to his face, she whispered, “Thank you for keeping me safe Uncle Clay. Get better soon.” She then gave him a small kiss on his cheek before going back to her parents.

Mikey stared for a few moments, watched Jameelah say her goodbye, and then stepped to the side of the bed. He reached down and grasped Clay’s hands in his. “I kept my promise. I got Jameelah to safety. Now it’s time for you to get better and come home.”

As Mikey was walking back to his Dad, a young nurse stuck her head into the room. “Are you the kids that escaped the convicts?”

With their nods of confirmation, she continued. “There are a bunch of reporters waiting downstairs who want to talk to the “young hero and brave little girl that escaped the convicted felons”. I think they’re talking about you.” She looked straight at Mikey and Jameelah.

Jameelah started to cry and turned into her mother’s arms, and Ray encircled both in his own. 

Mikey blanched and turned his frantic gaze to his father. “Dad! I’m not a hero! I don’t want to talk to those people. I’m not a hero! Please don’t make me talk. Please! I just want to go home now, Dad!” Mikey had begun to tremble, his eyes with fear and something else.

“Michael, you don’t have to talk to anyone. It’s okay. We’ll slip out a different way. It’s okay.” Jason gathered his son into his arms and soothed his fears.

Lisa spoke up. “They’ve probably got all the exits staked out, too. Take my keys and I’ll round up a hospital administrator and see if you can’t leave through the employee entrance. We’ll get our cars exchanged later.” She dug around in her purse and pulled out a set of keys. “Between me and the guys, we should be able to car shuffle everyone and work it out.”

Jason and Ray both gave her grateful looks, while Jason reached out and accepted her keys. Jason pulled out his own keys and handed them to Lisa.

Naima glanced up and down the hallway and indicated that it was all clear. The two families walked quickly away from the hospital room and headed for the freight elevator so they could sneak out and take their children home.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reunion with the kids

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, hope everyone is staying safe and healthy out there!
> 
> Enjoy!

Clay awakened in the middle of a coughing spell. Even in the middle of the coughing spell, he could tell he felt better just by how much air he could pull in with every breath. He also realized that not only was there an oxygen mask over his face, but he was no longer laying in the dirt with rocks poking at him. Slowly, memories started to trickle back in. Memories of Ash and Brian, memories of Jason and Ray staring him down, memories of the team arriving, talking to Sonny, blood in the helo and voices in the exam room. Everything was jumbled and Clay was having issues sorting his memories. He opened his eyes, both, and looked up to find two concerned faces peering down at him.

“Hey, brother, you back among the living?” Trent gave a hesitant smile and reached out to place ha hand on Clay’s good shoulder. Sonny stood beside Bravo’s medic looking tired but was smiling from ear to ear. 

Clay took a moment to take stock of all his aches and pains before answering. He was in a hospital room, warm, dry, relatively clean and comfortable. His knee was producing a dull, achy throb, helped he was sure by the good pain meds. He was able to see out of both eyes again, and he could feel the sweet flow of oxygen from the mask over his face and it no longer felt like he was sucking air through a knife-lined straw. He also noted that his bad shoulder had been secured in an immobilizer. Overall, he felt much better than he did with his last clear memory. He managed a small smile without too much discomfort to his battered lips and attempted to move the oxygen mask off to the side. Just bumping the mask aside cause a brief flash of pain in his nose. 

He breathed as deep as he could until the pain settled to a dull throb, “Well,” Clay rasped hoarsely, “At least… more alive than… the last time… I remember, anyway.” He looked around slowly, not seeing the two faces he needed to see above all else, felt worry immediately flood his already confused brain. “Where’s Jason? And Ray? I thought… I saw them, right? The kids… They got back? Safely? They need to be safe.” He began to sit up, panting heavily and looking more alarmed as his thoughts began to race to worst case scenarios.

“Whoa there, Pretty Boy.” Sonny made calming motions with his hands. “The kids are fine. Just settle back and relax, okay? They’re both home with their parents right now, trying to fend off the media. Seems one of the Park Rangers that was working the campground the night Mikey and Jameelah came in, listened to their whole story, and then made himself a few bucks by selling it to the media. All the news wants to broadcast now is “The Children Who Escaped from Convicts.” Sonny shook his head in disgust. “They’ve got Jason’s place staked out, so they are hiding out at Ray’s place until something new pops up for the reporters to report on.”

Clay relaxed, “Thank God. I’d rather… have them… trying to… report on that… than three more murders… by those same convicts.” He croaked out, the adrenaline leaving him weary.

Sonny just smiled. “I wouldn’t get too comfy there, Peter Pan.” Sonny shifted slightly to give Clay a clear view of his hospital room’s doorway. A hospital security guard stood there, arms crossed, and stern faced. Clay’s eyebrows rose and he turned a questioning look upon his teammates.

“You didn’t think the Park Ranger would leave you out of the story, now did you?” Blackburn replied as he stepped into the room chuckling. “Security has already caught reporters twice trying to make it to your room for exclusive interviews. One newswoman was even caught in a nurses’ uniform.”

Sonny snickered, “Like any reporter would manage to get by any of Bravo.”

Clay grimaced and rolled his eyes. “I don’t want… anything to do with… any fuckin’… reports, sir. Tell them to… leave me alone.” He began to yawn but only succeeded in bring on another coughing fit. 

Trent carefully pressed a pillow to his cracked ribs, while Blackburn and Sonny glanced nervously at each other. All of Bravo and their families knew Clay had a long road to recovery.

When Clay had regained his breath, he continued wearily. “I wouldn’t… mind if… you gave… me a sitrep… I’m in the dark… Who, exactly… were those guys? Did Mikey… have any trouble… finding the campground?” He looked expectantly at his Lt. Commander and his two brothers.

All three took turns to recount the events of the last few days. They waited for Clay to process all that they told and explained to him. Finally, Clay turned his face away and spoke quietly, “I just want… to get better and… put this behind me. How long… are they… going to… keep me here?” Clay’s eyes were beginning to fall to half-mast, and the members of Bravo knew he wouldn’t stay awake for too much longer.

“Well,” Trent spoke up hesitantly, “The Doc said that, barring any complications, you should be ready to leave by the end of the week. You will have to stay with one of us, since you busted your knee and need to keep your shoulder in the sling for a little bit, you won’t be able to move around your apartment and do things for yourself. You can stay with any of us, and yes, that is a condition of your release from this hospital.”

“I’m not… an invalid, Trent.” Clay began in a hoarse whisper. What little voice he had left was quickly going away as his energy waned.

Sonny interrupted him. “Might as well just stow that argument. You will be staying with one of us and that’s it.”

Clay gave a single nod of his head before he drifted off. Trent made sure to rearrange his blankets, made sure his knee was propped up just right and then sat by his bedside with Sonny and Blackburn to watch over him while he slept.

***

It was the third day in the hospital and Clay was feeling better but was starting to get a little stir-crazy. What didn’t help was that he was only getting verbal reports on how the kids were doing. Ray, Naima and Jason were busy helping them cope with the traumatic experience, so they couldn’t leave them.

Sonny strolled in to relieve Brock from Clay-sitting. “How we doing Peter Pan?”  
Clay had finally got rid of the oxygen mask yesterday, and really wanted to get back home. “Doing better. Ready to get out of here.”

“Well, you won’t get to leave until Trent and the docs say so.” Sonny said matter-of-factly as he sat in the chair.

“Ugh, why can’t I just go home?” Clay asked as he flopped his head back to look at the ceiling.

“Well, the docs want to make sure that the swelling in your throat won’t become an issues, and if you haven’t noticed, docs have said you can’t put weight on your knee and they want your shoulder in the sling.” Sonny replied to Clay’s question. “Same side of the body. Makes crutches a little difficult.”

“Don’t care. I want out.” Clay looked at Sonny. “How are the kids?”

Sonny took a breath and let it out in a sigh. “They’re doing as well as you can with what they went through.” 

“That doesn’t give me any specifics Son.” Clay looked at him, wanting the truth.

Sonny sighed, knowing that secret-keeping wasn’t high on his skill set. “They’re afraid to go outside. Reporters have been hanging around Ray’s place when they discovered Jameelah was the second kid. Jason and Ray have also said that no one is getting a lot of sleep because of nightmares. It hasn’t even been a week, but it will get better.”

Clay laid there, digesting what Sonny had just told him. “Get a doc, I’m going home.” He then began the slow process of getting out of the bed.

“Woah, Bam Bam!” Sonny said, grabbing Clay’s good shoulder to keep him in the bed. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“I need to see Mikey and Jameelah.” Clay simply stated, trying to get Sonny’s hand off his shoulder.

“Sorry, not happening unless Trent says so.” Sonny stated, keeping Clay in bed.

“If Trent says so what?” Trent said as he walked into the room.

“I need to see the kids. You are not stopping me.” Clay said as he continued to struggle against Sonny.

“How about we let the doc give you a quick examination and see what he says.” Trent tried to reason with Clay.

“No, I want to sign out AMA.” Clay interrupted. “Nothing that I have now can’t be treated at home.”

“Clay, let the doc check you out and then we can discuss…” Trent again, tried to reason with Clay, but it seemed that it might be for nothing.

“I need to see the kids.” Clay implored Sonny and Trent. “I need to make sure they are safe.”

“You don’t think Bravo 1 and 2 aren’t good enough to keep them safe.” Sonny asked, looking Clay in the eyes.

“It’s not that. I know they are safe with Jason and Ray… I need to see them safe. They need to be alright.” Clay glanced away. “In my mind, the last time I saw them is when they went down the waterfall. They weren’t safe with me. I failed to keep them safe. And I’m sure it’s the same with them. Last time heard anything from me was a gunshot. We need to see that each other are safe. I need to see them safe, for my own peace of mind.”

“Clay, you must realize that you are injured. You need some more time to heal before you leave here.” Trent tried, once again, to convince Clay that he needed to stay in the hospital.

“No, I want to sign out AMA.” Clay interrupted.

At that point, his attending physician came walking in hearing Clay’s statement. “Mister Spenser, I strongly advise against leaving AMA. You are still weak, and you need to stay off that knee.”

“No, I’m leaving. Those kids need me and I’m going. Where do I sign out?” Clay said as he finally got out from under Sonny’s hand and sat at the end of the bed.

“If you insist on leaving, at least get dressed while we round up instructions and pain meds for you.” The doctor resigned himself that his patient was leaving with or without his approval. Turning to Trent, he asked, “Do you have a physician on base that will be able to take over his care.”

“Yep. I’ll have him contact you for his medical records.” Trent stated as he watched Clay and Sonny argue. He knew Clay wanting to get out of the hospital was coming, just didn’t expect it this soon, and for this reason.

The physician left to get the instructions and medications, while Trent and Sonny helped Clay to his feet to slip into some boxers, sweatpants and front zippered sweatshirt for the ride home. When Clay’s feet hit the ground, he wavered a little bit after being horizontal for the better part of three days. 

The two men got Clay dressed and sat in the wheelchair, and Sonny went about gathering all of Clay’s belongings that were collected over the better part of three days. Trent manning the wheelchair, because he did not trust Sonny not to pop a wheelie or two if he was in control, he started walking to the floor desk.

The physician was just signing some paperwork, ready to hand it over to Trent. “Wait a moment, please.” The doctor left and came back with a couple of orange pill bottles in his hands. “Here, if you are so decisive on leaving us AMA.” He set four pill bottles down. “One is your antibiotic for the infection in the gunshot wound and to prevent any infection from the surgeries. One is pain medication, please stay on schedule and don’t let the pain get ahead of you, and one is an anti-nausea medication in case all these medications upset your stomach. Finally, is a muscle relaxant in case you need something in between pain meds.”

“Thanks.” Clay gave the doctor a small smile.

“The desk nurse will arrange for you to go down the freight elevator. Do one of you want to pull your car around to the employee entrance? Media is still camped out around the hospital.” The physician explained.

Sonny nodded and headed towards his truck to pull it around with Clay’s belongings and crutches in his arms. Trent wheeled Clay to the freight elevator so that he could be quietly chauffeured home by Sonny and Trent.

The ride from the hospital back to Virginia Beach was more exhausting than Clay had expected, and now all he wanted to do was lie down and sleep. He managed to stay awake and demanded that he see Mikey and Jameelah before he heads to his apartment.

Trent piped up from the front seat. “You will be staying with one of us until you are more mobile.”

Clay sighed, “I don’t care who I stay with as long as I get to see the kids before I get there.”

Trent quickly sent a text off to Jason and Ray letting them know that Clay was coming over, and to prevent the only-child sulking that Clay was starting, he would allow Clay to stay for a little bit before he would drag him out of there kicking and screaming.

***

Clay moved carefully with a slow, shuffling, stiff-legged step up the walk to Ray’s door. Walking with a straight leg brace on was not an easy task. The door opened just as Clay reached the steps into the house, and Ray and Jason stood there looking down at their youngest brother.

Ray craned his neck around his brothers to sweep his gaze up and down the abandoned street. Breathing a sigh of relief, he ushered in everyone to the house.

“Sorry, Clay. I’m so used to the media camping out on my lawn, I’ve become paranoid.” A gentle grin accompanied this statement as well as a self-deprecatory shrug of his shoulders. Jason just slapped a hand on Ray’s shoulder, smirked at his 2IC and started to walk back towards the living room.

Naima came into the entry way and gathered Clay to her for a gentle hug. “I’m so glad you’re here Clay. I know you must be tired, so let’s get you settled into bed for a nap, okay?” She led the way through the living room and down a hallway of the single level home. “Take a nap in the guest bed. Jason’s been sleeping there because Mikey has been sleeping in Jam’s room on an air mattress. Although, often, they’ve been ending up in the same bed lately.” Her voice trailed off uncertainly. Looking up into Clay’s eyes, she was surprised to see understanding there.

“Nightmares.” He nodded gently. “I know.”

Naima squeezed his good arm, unable to speak. She silently led him to the freshly made bed in their guest bedroom and set about helping her guest settle in. Clay awkwardly lowered himself onto the bed, being careful with his knee in the brace. Trent had come with a bag full of dressings and medications, since Clay will likely sleep for a few hours.

When Clay had arranged himself comfortably with two pillows behind his back to prop him up and another pillow under his knee, he asked the question that was uppermost on his mind. “Where are the kids?”

Naima smiled as she placed a light blanket over Clay. “They’re out back. I told them I’d come and get them as soon as you were settled. This is the first day I’ve gotten them out into the backyard. Between a new fear of strangers and fear of reporters climbing the fence, they’ve been cooped up for days.” She finished sadly.

Ray chimed in. “It’ll take time, Baby. The counselor warned us of that, but they will get over it with time.”

Jason’s face took on a fierce, protective look, “They will. Blackburn has pulled some miracle and had us stood down while the kids adjust, and you are on the injury list.”  
Ray looked at Clay, “Are you ready for them, Clay, or would you rather get some sleep first?”

Clay was exhausted. His body ached in a dozen different spots. He knew, however, that sleep would not come until he saw his missing charges. He needed to see the children for himself. Words and text messages were fine but only until he set eyes on them would he truly believe that they were home and safe. “I want to see them.”

Sonny and Trent went off to find the kids. While they were gone, Ray turned to Clay. “You know now that you are here, the kids won’t let you go home. And before you argue, don’t bother. Both Mikey and Jameelah have been asking for you to stay with us.”

Jason looked at the floor before speaking up, “Um, the crisis counselor said that they need to do this for themselves as much as for you.”

Everyone looked into the startled, anguished expression on their bedridden friend. Clay’s eyes were bright with unshed tears. “Okay.” He whispered quietly and turned his face away to regain his emotions before the kids came into the room.

It was a bittersweet reunion that followed. Mikey, Jameelah and RJ bounded into the room, anxious to see Uncle Clay. No one could mistake the solemn look on Mikey’s face when he lovingly greeted his ‘Uncle’. Jameelah, however, had gleefully come in, fully prepared to hug him and make sure he was getting better. RJ just toddled in repeating “Unca Clay.”

The atmosphere relaxed even further when the little girl recalled Trent’s statement about Clay’s condition becoming “colorful”, which was all Sonny needed to step up to the challenge of baiting his fallen brother. After Jameelah pointed out that a large, greenish, yellow bruise on Clay’s upper arm looked “just like Big Bird” even Mikey succumbed to the laughter that was a welcome change after such a long period of worry and fear.

But when Clay began to show signs of sleepiness, it was Mikey who decided that it was time for him to rest and quickly ushered the still smiling crowd out of the room.

It was immediately evident to all concerned that the young man had appointed himself Clay’s personal guardian and assistant for his recovery. Mikey wasn’t going to leave a loved one behind to an uncertain fate ever again.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And everyone is healing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, hope everyone is staying safe and well! And if you are in lock down like me, try to stay sane.
> 
> Enjoy!

The house was quiet. For the first time, Jason, Ray and Naima felt that they could truly relax. Everyone from Bravo was in their own homes. The kids were in their rooms, Clay was sleeping in the guest bedroom, and best of all everyone was safe. Ray and Naima were comfortably snuggled on the couch as they watched a late-night show, and Jason was sitting in an armchair, waiting for the couple to go to bed so he could sleep on the pull-out couch… again.

The kids were finally asleep after an evening of playing board games with Clay, who had started to drift off toward the end of the games. Mikey had insisted on being the one to bring Clay his dinner in bed, after declaring that Clay’s knee would never heal if he kept getting in and out of bed too often. The bathroom across the hall was far enough, the young man had decided, at least for the next day or two.

Clay was wise enough to not only realize the truth of the statement but to also sense that his young friend needed something that could only be gained by caring for the injured man. After a bad misstep caused pain to shoot through his knee, Mikey was the person who stood by his side with water and pain medications that Naima had given to him to take to Clay.

Naima raised her head off Ray’s shoulder and looked at Jason across the living room. “Jason? Are we doing the right thing, letting Mikey take on some of the responsibility of caring for Clay? He’s only turning 15.” Her voice was hushed but filled with concern. 

Jason thought a moment before responding. “Naima, he may be 15 in a lot of things, but part of him grew up out there. He’ll never be a child again in some of the ways he views at the world, no matter how much I have tried to protect him from it. I think this is something that he needs to do. I think for him, it’s a way of healing. Maybe for forgiving himself for leaving Clay behind. He doesn’t understand that there is nothing to forgive. If this makes him feel better, I think we ought to let him do it. If it gets too out of hand, then I will have him talk to the councilor again.”

Naima studies the patterns on the sofa. Mikey wasn’t the only one feeling guilty. She said some harsh words about Bravo’s youngest. She realized the words were said in the heat of the moment, a moment full of fear for the kid’s lives, but they burned in her heart. She turned her head back to look at Ray and had decided to broach the subject with both men when a noise interrupted their conversation.

It was a familiar sound by now. One of the children with another nightmare. Naima pulled herself up, followed by both men, and headed toward the bedrooms to see which kid would need comfort. It wasn’t until they reached the entrance to the hallway, that everyone realized the soft, anguished words that were cried out were not coming from Jameelah’s room, where both children were sleeping, but from the guest room. Naima moved instantly to Clay’s bed and settled on the edge. She could see both Ray and Jason’s silhouettes outlined in the doorway, ready to intervene if Clay woke up with a swing.

Gently laying her hand upon the thrashing man’s head, she spoke softly, soothingly. “Clay? Clay, wake up. You’re having a nightmare.” Having little experience in dealing with nightmares in adults outside of her husband, she fell into the familiar pattern she used with her own children. She stroked Clay’s forehead gently and called his name to bring him back to reality. She was startled when this full-grown ‘child’ sat up abruptly and grabbed her upper arm with his one strong hand in an almost bruising grip.

“No! Please!” The anguished words were wrenched from the young SEAL’s soul. Clay’s eyes were open, but they didn’t register her presence. She was aware that both Ray and Jason had moved into the room and were standing behind her, ready to intervene if needed.

“Please don’t hurt them!” Clay was looking straight into her eyes, yet he still didn’t register where he was or who he was talking to. His words slipped out in a heart-wrenching sob. “Please let them go. You have me, let them go. They’re just kids!”

Naima brought her hands up around his arm and took Clay’s face in them, cupping his cheeks that had tears rolling down them into his beard. Speaking louder and giving him a gentle shake, she tried to get through to the frightened man. “Clay! Clay, it’s time to wake up. It’s Naima. Ray and Jason are here too. The children are safe. You’re safe now, Clay, but you need to wake up, okay?”

She watched as awareness slowly crept back into his crystal blue eyes. When he whispered a small, timid, “Naima?”, she merely nodded and was astonished when the grip on her arm pulled her forward into a fierce, one-armed embrace.

“I’m so sorry, Naima. I couldn’t stop them. I couldn’t… I couldn’t…” And then he was sobbing. For the first time since the moment Davie and Lou had burst through the bushes into their campsite, Clay allowed himself to feel vulnerable and afraid. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I broke my promise to you.”

Ray moved closer and sat on the bed beside his wife who was making shushing noises. He reached a handout and gently grabbed Clay’s shoulder. “It’s okay, Clay. You did everything humanly possible and because of you, Jameelah and Mikey are home safe. We owe you more than any of us can ever repay. There is absolutely nothing to be sorry for.”

Naima was sniffling by now as well. “Clay, it’s me who needs to apologize to you. I was so mad at you when I found out what had happened. I should had known that you would find a way to keep our babies safe. I should have known that you’re not a Tier One Operator for nothing. I should have had faith in you like my husband and Jason did, and for that I’m sorry. Can you forgive me?” She looked pleadingly at the young man now trying to regain his composure.

“Forgive you, Naima? There is nothing to forgive.” Clay wiped his eyes on the sleeve of his t-shirt and looked down embarrassed that he lost it in front of Jason and Ray. He wasn’t used to losing his composure in this way. “I wish I could have done better. Let’s just call it even, okay?” 

He looked back up and saw movement out of the corner of his eye. Instinctively, he knew that Mikey had witnessed the entire scene and was now slipping back into Jameelah’s room. That was something else that he will need to settle, and soon. “I’m alright now, Naima. Thanks for being here.”

Naima leaned forward and gave him a gentle kiss on the forehead. “You’re welcome, Clay. Now, I think it’s time we all got some sleep, hmm?” She, along with Ray and Jason, exited the room, leaving the sole remaining occupant alone with his thoughts.

***

Ray wiped the sweat from his eyes and scanned the yard. The grass really didn’t need cut all that badly, due to the heat and slow growth of late summer, but he could never be sure when a spin-up would call him in. It has been a godsend that Blackburn has gotten the team some time off, but that was coming to an end. Looking up, he spied Brock’s truck turning into the driveway and gladly took the opportunity to shut down the mower. Glancing over his shoulder, he could see that Naima, working in the flowerbed, had noticed Brock too, and was brushing the dirt off her hands.

Brock strolled over to Ray, “Hey, how’s the Perry household today?” Brock asked in his usual quiet way, Cerberus running circles around everyone, greeting everyone and getting pets in return.

Ray smiled in return. “Jason went onto base, but everyone is doing well. Clay’s on the mend, although he still sleeps plenty. The doctor on base said it would be normal for him to be tired, but he’s getting better and can use the crutches now. He‘s even starting to get a little stir crazy just sitting around all day. Both Mikey and Jameelah are starting to get back to normal. As much as I hate to admit, the therapist was right. Having Clay here has been good for both of him. Mikey is more relaxed today than I’ve seen him since they left that first day. Even with the occasional nightmare from Clay, Jameelah and Mikey, nothing could shake his good mood.

“So, you ready to start training tomorrow?” Brock raises an eyebrow in Ray’s direction while he watched Cerberus run around.

“Yeah, the kids are better and I’m getting antsy just hanging around to. Besides, I’m leaving Clay in very capable hands.” Ray finished as Naima walked up to join them. Ray slipped an arm around his wife, who was giving him a small smile.

“Hey, Brock. Would you like a drink? I can tell you that we’re both ready for one. I’ve been planting flowers along the flower beds around the house.” Naima smirked, “And if you’re both really quiet and can sneak over to the guest bedroom door, you’ll have your afternoon’s entertainment as well.” Naima’s eyes sparkled with mischief.

Both Ray and Brock looked questioningly at her, but she just smirked and started down the hallway.

The trio of adults proceeded quietly into the house and across the kitchen. When Mikey looked up from the game he was playing on his phone while sitting on the couch, Ray held up a silencing finger to his lips and watched in pleased amusement as his boss’ son smiled and joined them in their mischief. Cerberus was following the group with her head tilted wondering why humans were so weird.

As quietly as possible, the foursome made their way to the door of the guest bedroom and paused. They could hear two voices coming from the room: one little girl voice and one strange, high-pitched and slightly hoarse voice.

“Teresa, that’s a lovely dress your wearing today. Do you have a date with Blaine?” The little girl’s voice asked.

“Well, Barbie, I thought I would take Skipper to the zoo. Do you want to come?” The unmistakable voice of Bravo 6, disguised horribly with a high-pitched voice, made the four people in the hallway clamp hands over their mouths to suppress their laughter.

“Oh, that’s sounds amazing, but I will need to change. Can’t wear a ball gown to the zoo. What do you think of this sundress? And should I invite Ken?” Jameelah’s sweet voice questioned her partner in crime.

“The pink sundress would look nice, but what about the yellow shorts outfit? And my dress is too fancy for the zoo, so I need to change too.” Came the hoarse, high-pitched voice again before switching to his normal voice.

“Jammie? How come I have to be Teresa and Skipper all the time? You have at least five Barbies. Why couldn’t I just be Blaine and Ken?” The plaintive tone was almost too much for the audience in the hall. 

They slowly leaned forward until four heads were poking around the door jamb. The sight that met their eyes were unusual. Clay lay stretched out on his side of the bed, his back to the amused audience. He was propped up on several pillows. He had a brunette doll in one hand and was delicately trying to undo the outfit on the doll, with several doll outfits spread everywhere on the bed with other doll accessories. Jameelah was humming happily as she quickly and expertly switched outfits on her barbie doll. She looked up and caught both her Dad and Brock trying to pull out their phones to record the sight as Clay began to speak in the fake high-pitch tone again.

“Should I wear sandals or tennis shoes… with this…” Clay became aware of Jameelah’s diverted attention to something behind him. He slowly turned his head to look over his shoulder, dreading what he knew he would find. “Um…” Clay tried.

It was worse than he could imagine. Ray, Naima, Mikey and Brock were all grinning like idiots, with Ray and Brock both having their phones up, no doubt recording this. Cerberus was no help as she sat and smiled at him too. He felt the blush start at his toes, flash quickly up his torso, his neck, his face before he felt his ears burn. His audience couldn’t hold back anymore and broke into hysterical snorts and full-bellied laughter.

Ray proceeded the group into the room, laughing so hard, he had to hold onto his sides. It felt so good to laugh like this again. He watched as Clay finished blushing and went on the defensive.

“Hey!” Clay sputtered. “I was bored, okay? And Jameelah was nice enough to keep me busy…” he trailed off at the sight of Brock holding his ribs from laughter. It wasn’t very often anyone had the opportunity to see the normally very quiet Brock laugh like this. “Okay, Brock. I’m glad you’re amused, but if you breathe one word of this to any of the guys… You too, Ray! I mean it! Not ONE WORD! Not even to your Dad, Mikey! And delete those videos! This doesn’t get out of this room! Sonny would make my life completely miserable until I retire from the teams.” He tried desperately.

“I don’t know, Clay. This might just be too good to pass up. I might need some encouragement to keep quiet.” The dog handler grinned impishly.

Clay just glowered at Bravo 5. “How ‘bout cases of beer and unlimited dog treats? Maybe my first-born child? If you tell Sonny, I will transfer to another team. That’s all there is to it.” Clay looked at the group in disgust. He knew Ray and Brock had him by the short hairs on this. He was going to owe them big time… And maybe figure what he could bribe Davis with to get her to delete those videos. At least, he thought he was screwed until a little voice piped in.

“You stop making fun of Uncle Clay! If you tell Uncle Sonny about me and him playing Barbie, then I’m going to be mad at you for the rest of my life! He was being nice to me!” She glared defensively back and forth between her Dad, Mikey and Uncle Brock, until everyone held their hands up in surrender. They knew when to accept defeat, and this time Clay had a nine-year-old angel of mercy on his side.

“You win, Jammie. We won’t tell a soul. Will we Brock?” Ray looked questioningly at Brock and was glad to see the affirmative nod, then looked at Mikey. “Right, Mikey?”

Mikey gave in with a disgusted roll of his eyes at the perfect opportunity missed but nodded all the same. Ray knew his wife favored Clay too much to give him up to the other guys, so he didn’t even have to ask her.

“And the videos?” Jameelah asked as she stood up with her arms crossed over her chest, facing the adults that had their phones in the hands.

Ray and Brock looked at her, then at each other and sighed. They deleted the videos and showed Jameelah before she nodded and turned to pick up her Barbies.

“So,” Naima looked around at all the smiling face and felt happiness flood through her, “Is everyone ready for some lunch?”

***

The clock had just hit 11:00 PM when Naima and Ray heard the muttering and thrashing start up from the guest bedroom again. They looked at each other and sighed. Clay was having another nightmare.

They both slipped out of bed and padded toward their guest bedroom. They met Jason in the hallway, who was scrubbing an eye, standing next to the doorway in his t-shirt and boxers.

They were all surprised to see the tiny figure of Jameelah, pull her door open and continue to Clay’s room. She padded softly on bare feet, half-asleep and eyes heavy-lidded, clutching her teddy bear. Without a word, she climbed into Clay’s bed and curled up against his chest.

The adults watched in amazement as the restless man pulled her close and fell instantly silent, back into untroubled oblivion.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, the heart to heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, hope everyone is staying safe and well in these uncertain times.
> 
> Also, thank you for hanging on for this wild ride!
> 
> Enjoy!

The following morning, after Ray and Jason had departed for the base, Clay declared that he was well enough to move a little bit more around the house. Naima had been expecting this sooner than later. Just like her husband, when one of the guys got bored, it becomes progressively harder to keep them down.

“Mikey, Clay, I’ve got to take Jameelah school supply shopping today. There is a good sale, and we haven’t even started gathering supplies. Things have been a tad bit crazy around here.” She smiled to take any criticism out of the words. “I’ve left some sandwiches and sodas in the fridge. Clay, your pills are on the counter and Mikey can give them to you at noon. Why don’t you two play some video games to keep yourself busy. No getting up and hobbling around everywhere. You need to be resting and that’s what you are going to do, do I make myself clear?”

Clay nodded mutely in wide-eyed acceptance. Mikey just smirked. Naima may not be his mother, but he would recognize the “Mother’s Do-As-I-Say-Or-Else” tone of voice and was gleeful, and relieved, to see that it worked as well on grown men as it did on kids.

Naima gave a final appraising glance at the two people staying at home and ushered Jameelah out the door with RJ in tow.

Both young men gave a sigh of relief.

After a game of Call of Duty, Clay took a short nap. Mikey woke him for lunch, and they had the sandwiches left for them in the fridge. Clay managed to choke down his dessert of pills. When Mikey moved to clean up their plates, Clay felt it was time to start the conversation he had been putting off. He was taken completely off guard, therefore, when Mikey beat him to it.

“Uncle Clay, I heard your nightmare the other night.” Mikey simply stated.

Clay nodded. “I know.” He shifted a little on the couch and watched as his young friend came to sit cross-legged on the floor in front of him. “Did it bother you?”

“No. Yes. I mean…” Mikey searched for the right words. “I was surprised. I’ve been having nightmare, but I didn’t expect you to. You were so brave. I don’t think… you cried, Uncle Clay.”

Clay found Mikey’s gaze and didn’t waver. “Do you think it’s shameful to cry, Mikey? Or are you surprised that I was scared?”

“I think it’s alright to cry. I mean, I did. But then, I was really scared and… I don’t know… I didn’t expect you to, that’s all. I know your job as a SEAL puts you in plenty of dangerous situations, but this felt different. I think, in a way, it made me feel better to cry. I guess I didn’t think you were scared because you didn’t act like it.” Mikey looked back at Clay with wonder.

“Well, Mikey, I’ll let you in on a little secret. I was terrified. The entire time. And I thought you were incredibly brave.” Clay frowned inwardly at the vigorous shaking of Mikey’s head. 

Mikey’s face and voice were full of bitterness when he replied, “I wasn’t brave at all, Uncle Clay. I just did what you told me to do. That doesn’t take bravery. What you did took real guts. The newspapers kept wanting to talk to me, saying I was a real hero. I’m not a hero!” Mikey jumped up and began to pace. 

First thought through Clay’s mind is that Mikey looked like a smaller Jason. Second thought was that Clay felt alarm at how agitated the teenager was. This wasn’t going as well as he had planned. Something else was going on here.

“Okay. Maybe you’re not a hero. I don’t think of myself as one either. I just did what I had to do to get you and Jameelah out and then for me to say alive. Does that make me a hero… or a survivor, Mikey?” Clay tried to reason.

“To me you are both. You saved us, Uncle Clay, even though you knew what was going to happen to you. That makes you a hero. And then you survived. But you thought of us first! I know you told me to take Jammie and go, to leave you. I can deal with that. I was doing what had to be done. Yeah, I feel guilty for leaving you behind, but I can understand why you made me. That’s not it! Don’t you see? That’s not IT!” 

Mikey was crying by this point and Clay was becoming seriously alarmed. As the boy passed him on one of his paces, Clay reached out with his good arm and snagged his young friend’s wrist. Mikey halted in his tracks but wouldn’t look at Clay, instead he looked steadfastly at the ground, his chest heaving with emotion.

Clay spoke softly, as he would if he was talking to a spooked hostage. “Tell me, Mikey. What’s eating you up inside?” When the boy didn’t respond, Clay searched through his own feelings during his captivity. After a moment, he drew Mikey down onto his knees, making it possible to look the young man straight in the eye. With his other hand, ignoring the twinge in his shoulder, he tiled the boy’s chin up. “Michael Hayes, look at me.” He was rewarded when the frightened boy reluctantly raised his eyes to meet his. “Mikey, are you glad that you survived?”

Tears began to run down the smooth cheeks of the fifteen-year-old, not quite old enough to shave yet.

“Yes.” He whispered. “Yes, and that’s the worst thing of all, Uncle Clay. I feel guilty because I’m glad you made me leave. I was so scared and when you wanted me to leave, I tried to be brave and stay with you, but when you made me go, I couldn’t help myself. I was glad. I was so happy to get away! Even though I knew you were going to get hurt, possible killed, and I was happy to get away! And then I heard the gunshot…” His anguished voice broke. “I didn’t know if you were still alive, how bad they were hurting you, Uncle Clay, and Jameelah wanted to go back. I told her that you had made us promise not to, Uncle Clay, but the truth was that I wouldn’t have gone back anyway! I was too scared! I was too scared!”

Clay gathered the weeping boy into his arms and held him. He rocked his boss’ son until his sobs began to subside.

“Mikey, I want you to listen to me very carefully now.” Clay spoke quietly to the snuffling head that lay upon his chest. “What you are feeling is very, very natural. It is called survivor’s guilt. Anyone who comes through an experience like this feels it. Not just you. You did nothing wrong. What you are feeling is not wrong. It is human. I was scared the entire time those men had us. I almost chickened out at the last moment before I sent you and Jameelah to escape. I was afraid of what they would do to me, but I could never face your father or any of my teammates if I had survived and something bad had happened to you or Jameelah. The fear of that guilt was worse than my fear of getting hurt. So, you see? Everything I did was based on fear, too. Then, after you escaped, I wished I could have gotten away, too. And I did everything that Davie and Lou told me to because I was too afraid that they would kill me if I didn’t. They threatened to hurt me in a bad way and I just did exactly what they told me to do because I wanted to survive. But I survived, okay? We all survived and that’s what counts. I swear to you that what you are feeling is perfectly okay. And I’ll tell you something else, young man…”

Clay shifted Mikey off his chest so that he could once again look him in the eye. The young man had stopped sniffling and was listening intently to every word Clay said. Clay looked straight into the wet eyes of Mikey’s. “I’m proud of you, Michael Hayes. You kept your head about you and did exactly what you were told. You remembered the instructions I gave to you and you got Jameelah home safely. Back into the arms of your father. I couldn’t be prouder of you if you were my own son.”

Mikey searched Clay’s face. Trying to find any insincerity there. “Really, Uncle Clay? You’re not saying all of this just to make feel better, are you?”

Clay shook his head solemnly and fathered the boy to him once more, knowing that this child, this young man, and he himself, would be alright. “No, I swear on my Bravo brothers, that I’m not saying this to make you feel better. You are a good man, Michael Hayes, and I would have you watching my six again if the need were there. I promise.”


End file.
